If the world were flat I would argue
there would be more suicides,
Jumping from the edge of the earth.
The act would somehow be more redeemable
Than say, swimming into a concrete walkway.
City crews wouldn’t have to wash the mess
and children wouldn’t  see the naked truth.
The news could do an expose
On this trendy new trend
In the inward homicidal debauchery.
I imagine the lower three miles would be much like purgatory
The pale-blue breath holders
With their glass frozen eyes
All floating in the under earth
Not sliced and bleeding,
Or comatose from pills,
Or lessening the brain via bullet,
Or gas like Plath,
Not even rope burn from a hangman’s noose.
No if the world were flat, they would be floating.
Some stitched with government satellites
Payment in the mail for their families.
Why yes there are other benefits too
Like executions,
Orbital burial and visits,
even gps tracking.
But I am no sales man
You should talk to
Samuel Birley Rowbotham
He holds a parallax
Between history and accounting.

I'm a Barbie Girl,
in a Barbie World.
Life's fantastic: I
feel like plastic,
aiming for an eighteen-inch waist because I can afford to throw my internal organs away.
I feel like plastic,
having to choose
between eating and breathing with not enough space for two tubes.
I feel like plastic,
a thirty-nine inch bust and three times the forehead.
I feel like plastic,
a size nine squeezed to a three, spending
three to nine avoiding mealtime because my weight loss book says
'Don't eat.'
I'm a Barbie Girl,
in a Barbie World.
Life's fantastic, but...
I'm not plastic.
I've sat here listening while you complain about society but I don't think you realize that
society is made by you.
You complain about masks but you're masked by your poetry and
trust me,
it's trendy:
Psychiatry.
A bottle of capsules captures your soul and your dreams,
fading
reality.
I cannot be defined because a definition leaves no room for change and I
am a flame,
ready to burn the cardboard box of priority you put over me.
All the cool kids are lesbians and thespians on about repressions
and I care,
I do,
I mean... I'm standing here among you.
But words are just air.
You can stand on this stage and tell me I'm beautiful, but
I am more than my face so
disregard my mild distaste for your
inspirational speech.
Now, this...
This isn't a call for help.
This is a call to arms.
This
is a battle cry because
I
am sick of waiting for a future that should've happened yesterday.
So use this air to live the words you say and
rally.
Do not soothe, because we've already been cocooned by soothed reality in
Shawnee,
Johnson County.
I'm a real girl,
in a real world.
Life's fantastic, and I
refuse to be plastic,
aiming for generic weight range based on content, not scale number.
I refuse to be plastic,
a neck moulded perfectly for both eating and breathing so I don't have to choose.
I refuse to be plastic,
a bust that you don't need to be sizing
when I've got eyes
a green not of romanticized meadows but of drunken
puke.
I refuse to be plastic,
a size nine foot in a size nine shoe,
spending three to nine
enjoying my meal times,
because my weight loss book is
chucked down the chute.
I'm a living girl
in a beautiful world.
Life's fantastic,
because I'm not plastic.

First, it was the stars on my ceiling
Glow-in-the-dark stars
That I stuck up there with double-sided, sticky foam
I stared at them every night,
Thinking These are the real deal
I traced them with my index finger,
Squinching up one eye so that I could play
Connect-the-Dots: Cosmic Edition

Then it was the stars on my walls,
Boy bands and Orlando Bloom
The epitome of hot, I thought
My friends and I would trade each other
Picking and choosing our favorites
The very best were the ones where you couldn’t decide
Which side to display of
My Galaxy Love

Then there were the stars in my eyes,
The ones everyone told me about
The only stars that were ever real
I used to look for them in the mirror
Leaning forward
But maybe they just meant that my splotchy
Gold-brown irises looked like the cosmos my
Eye Color: Starry

Now I see the stars in the heavens,
White, shiny stars,
Like pin-pricked holes in the sky,
Patterns that people tell me are there
That I pretend to see
These are the real stars, I think,
But after all this time maybe there are no stars
Maybe stars are just a dream

Pyres of cityscapes burn contingently in the distance
ever drunk with blood of a mother, a nurturer who asks
nothing of the morose, self-consumed existence
she cares for. Her brow cocked,
wrinkles descend like
rain that tears down
a window.
Pain.
You're bleeding out! But she'll never put herself
forefront. How could she? Sitting, reflecting.
Tormented by incompetence, her soft
voice silently flutters the leaves.
Drearily an extension of her lips, the words
escape the cusps like a cautious prairie-dog.
Smog obscures
the senses, a haze
darkening the pupils of your celestial eyes.
I still see You
drooping in the rocker under a hard light. Retaining know-
ledge of past and present, through spectacles.
Her deflating ****, secreting
concrete into the sucklings, cementing fate,
as the clock that hangs above her falters. I shutter to think of the
future that's afore. When the one who's raised me is not.
No more.
Your timber limbs look awfully thin. Restless and alone,
she's tired. "Abandoned"
we're all alone,
but your company means more to me than a sustainable
stone.

We've reached the end of year one
and Trump says he's done more
than any other president
from any time before.

So, what are the accomplishments
of Trump and his intrepid crew?
Well, here now is a partial list
of what they did, or tried to do.

They lied about inaugural crowds
and introduced "Alternative Facts",
inspired a worldwide women's march
to protest Trump's disgusting acts.

Hollowed-out the E.P.A.,
deemed climate change a Chinese hoax.
Paris Accord and regulations
gone, in puff of toxic smoke!

Wrecked the State Department and
Muslims, he said, must be banned.
Insulted NATO and U.N.,
brought shame upon his own homeland.

Attacked the mainstream media.
Railed and ranted of "fake news",
unless it came from Fox and Friends
and others spouting all his views.

Gave praise to Russia - Putin too.
Investigations started.
Comey started digging and
was forcibly departed.

Poked and taunted Kim Jong Un.
International drama!
Obsessed with slagging Hillary
and Barack Obama.

Battled healthcare, N.F.L.
and Planned Parenthood.
Tried to ban transgendered troops.
Claimed that coal is good.

Would not condemn the Neo-Nazis
down in Charlottesville.
Filled his swamp with sycophants
up on Capitol Hill.

Puerto Rico half destroyed.
Paper towels he gave.
Huge cuts to the National Parks,
decreasing land to save.

Claimed that Trump saved Christmas and
gave massive tax cut presents
to the corporate oligarchs
with crumbs tossed to the peasants.

Debt ballooning! Conflict looming!
Divisions far and wide!
G.O.P.'s not stopping Trump.
Have they even tried?

Claims to be a stable genius;
A smart and big success!
What legacy will Donald leave?
What awful, dreadful mess?

These were just some accomplishments
of which I have kept score,
but they just scratch the surface.
I could rant for hours more!

But haven't we all had enough
after Trump's first year?
It feels more like twenty!
Let us hope his end is near.

This was my Year One "trumpoem"
that I wrote for you.
Hope I won't have to write another
after year two!

I should be sorry for being white.
but I don't look down upon others,
still I should feel bad.
for what happened in the past
somehow, I am responsible

they put me down
telling me I can't understand
all lives matter.
but only if you are part of a minority.

I should be sorry for being white.
I should apologize for the things I never did,
things I never said and never thought.

because just the fact that I was born with a different skin color makes me unsympathetic and evil.

the fact that I am white means I am stupid,
means I am responsible,
automatically places me in the wrong.
I am constantly reminded of my inability to empathize.

all because I am white.
who are the real racists here?

Like a meme of activism
This women's coalition
Mothers
Sister
Friends
Pioneers and heroines
There's courage in their convictions
A guild of collectivism
They hold luncheons in their kitchens
Talk of abolition
Mysticism
Feminism
Of heroes and magnetism
Seduction
Love
Eroticism
They scream like banshees at a crucifixion
About injustice
Dereliction
Terrorism
A tradition underwritten
With symbolism
Drums
Violins
Musicians
They may be sitting
They may be knitting
Baking muffins
Folding linen
Running errands
Stuffing chickens
A juxtaposition to their ambition
Of inspiring the unwilling
Turning derision to optimism
Their fire and brimstone
Will have history rewritten
Freedom of reproduction
Liberalism
Animism
They have wisdom
Intuition
Rhythm
They are fearsome
This women's coalition