America’s presidents: well deserved

(recall that cowboy Hollywood actor?)

React in vain while your meltdown is served:

let it glow—like a nuclear reactor.

Energy freed: progressively conserved,

in Uranium for all who backed her—

though some who bought it may become unnerved

and see her as less than a benefactor.

That fat singer
Is getting
A divorce.

Not surprised,
She's the size
Of a horse.

Not interested
In who
She screws

Just wish the BBC
Would report
Some news.

I never have to check my phone and so I watch the candleflame dance
Fingertips grow numb to the soulless rocks glass
My cigarette whispers secrets to a callous night
And I think my cat died
I’d check but I can’t take another hit tonight
Unless it’s off a pipe
She’ll still be dead in the morning
Silence hangs about like an ugly hotel painting that’s been inexplicably bolted to the wall
If I were to put a **** out on my chest to punish every thought I had of you
I’d spell out your name
A thousand times

Al Shabab having terrorist fits
while Nairobi is taking the hits.
An attack calculated
by gunmen, frustrated
for lack of Somalian *****...

I don't think about it any more
I take out the trash
noting
Sticks caught in the crotch of a tree
The wind does what the wind does
breaks weaker branches down
does not care where
it leaves
them
on its invisible way

Days do what the days do
they don't count themselves
worthy as they go
to release
the afternoon
to evening—
an artless
emptying
to a low spot
where tears tend to pool
if I'd let them down

“You know,
in that low spot
out there...?”
Where it's hard to see
Where its hard to care?

They take heart
out
divide it by energy
for sadness—
I haven't got

Watched the clock go round
wipe out my little plans
with relentless hands

...and I never got dressed today

Jamin Hollis has her residence in The Garden.
In The Garden, in the bloated blocks of Transit Town.
Behind the day shelter, beside the corner store.
Across the parking lot of the thrift shop.
Beyond the fluorescence of the pharmacy.
Right there, just a hop and a skip from the trains.
Right there, just a scoot from the bus barn.

Jamin Hollis is a rampant ***** and she needs,
she needs to die.

Jamin Hollis is a rampant ***** and indeed,
she'll die tonight.

Wait for the streetlights to dot the immediate sky.
Most of them are dead or flickering in the blocks.
Wait for the junk rats to leave for the metro line.
Most of them are dead or flickering.
If any open eyes remain on the sidelines, take a breath.
Collect your nerve and toss a penny on the pavement.
The eyes will blind to the shine and they will prostrate.

Bow with a force enough to imbed gravel in the forehead.

Jamin Hollis is a rampant ***** and she needs,
she needs to die.

Jamin Hollis is a rampant ***** and indeed,
she'll die tonight.

Spin it one more time,
your story is so involving,
I
couldn't
have heard
right.

Repeat it for me,
please.

That's what I thought.

Any other day,
I'd not
say anything,
pretend I
buy your *******.
Today, I can't let it go.

I never ask.
You volunteer.
That
makes
the lying
worse.

Bother someone else,
you ******* *****.

Mordecai (hallowed gatekeeper)
triumphs over Haman (gallowed hate-keeper)