Let them speculate and form opinion,
the truth is one and holds dominion
nothing but the black and white of being
right will do.

Who can pontificate upon my mental state
with authority?
why,
that'd be me and only me
and only i.

You may formulate a plan or drop your tears
for the plight of man,
I resist this stoically
but out of morbid curiosity
I wait to see what happens next.

Dead is dead
we should let them be
to rest in peace.

Five strangers walked into my dream,
  all male and all different versions
  of my deceased mother

They looked at me one by one,
  with that look—her look,
  that had been gone for so long

The first whispered to the second,
  then the second to the third,
  as the fourth and fifth just shook their heads

I tried to look away, but their presence
  followed, and my eyes were frozen
  in the judgment they proclaimed

My sleep was now haunted by what I once knew,
  a maternal affliction that my memory had cured,
  —returning again to infect my dreams

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

who holds the leash
of the pigs in the streets?  
follow the paper trail:
dead presidents
never fail to be the culprit.

it's not who
but what.
the police always
serve and protect
capital and property.
why else would they block
off a jewel store
during a peaceful rally?

they may not be
our enemy,
but they
certainly
aren't our friends.

they are the strong-arm
of the State,
fodder on a frontline
devised by fascist elite.
the boys in blue
with low IQs
are oligarchs' favorite tools
for bludgeoning
dissent and pummeling
free expression.
useful idiots—
truncheons designed
with punishing dissidents
in mind.

we may well be
the 99%, but they have badges,
guns, and a license to ****
emblazoned on the blue shield
slapped on their chests,
stoking overzealous
racists to respond violently,
a cacophony of bloodshed
seems to be the only language
they know how to speak.

smash the fraternity
that acquiesces to criminality.
white men in pressed suits—
who's speculative spending
lead to economic catastrophe—
get off scott-free
while black men are imprisoned
for possessing an ounce of ****.
not even the blind would fail to see
the "just us" system excludes
the majority of humanity.

all lives matter?
only ignorance could present
such a fictitious narrative,
a self-congratulatory hyperbole
disregarding contemporary reality.
private prisons designed for profit,
institutionalized bigotry instigating
a new form of slavery.
when mass incarceration
lacerates our communities
and exacerbates the conditions
of the working class,
the only dignified response
is to stand up, fight back.

we no longer
have a need
for this blatant idiocracy.
if we truly want to call this country
"the land of the free,"
then we must say,
loudly and clearly:
abolish the police.

Simple how the clouds collapse
When tangents merge with metaphors,
How tracks of reason tread the path
Then pass through open doors.
When threads of inspiration sing
As blackbirds in the dew of dawn,
Where crystal light of opulence
Then innocence and fun..…is borne.
A purity of  purpose, suffused in simplicity,
Swaddled and encapsulated, worn with a smile.
Embracing the instant of beautiful freedom
To breathe this sweet air of loveliness, awhile.

M.
The hallowed green of a Taranaki dawn @ Foxglove
9th February 2017