I think
I've seen it all:
****** turbans,
Mosques riddled
With bullet holes,
Bus stop bomb shelters,
Bad aim.

I've been out of the loop
Recently—haven't
Had the time to
Stop and smell the
Newsprint on

The coffee table but,
I see pictures.

Paper maché
Leg casts,
Wine-stained
Hello Kitty bandages,

Slit wrists,
And a ground out cigar.

Lonely engines,
Browning fires,
And balsa wood.

Gas masks,
A judge's gavel
And traveller's checks.

House of cards,
Plane ticket,
Ukrainian flag.

Smoke bombs,
Sandpaper flares...

Rocket ships filled
With bags of sand.
And cups of coffee:

Wake up.

i miss
your
feet
your
bad
breath
your
sweat
and
your
voice
that
shook
me
from
my
tree

do you look
at her in awe
is she speckled
with the stars
the way the
blinds make
light, pinstriped,
her lips are candied
her clothes are chiffon
wrappers and her elbows
make you sing to the high, high

heavens.

Rain is coming
In this dry and barren land.

You may expect it to come in a cool mist
Or tiny raindrops that pitter-patter on your red roof,
But if you look up to the far horizon you'll see
Giant pillars of clouds in the sky
Casting heavy dark shadows.
From it you'll know that

Rain is coming
And it is coming in a heavy downpour .

The howling winds will whip us.
The rain will soak our skin
And the cold will seep into our bones.
Deafening thunders will pierce
Not only our ears but also our hearts.
Structures will be struck by lightning
And erupt in flames.
Mountains will crumble.
Valleys will flood.
And we will have no choice
But to hold on to each other
Or perish.

But when the sky calms down and the storm subsides,
The light of day will reveal
A city cluttered with chaos,
Beyond rearranged:
Reinvented.
But now
Dry streams are once again
Flowing with coolness and clarity.
The floods had revived the parched soil,
The sleeping seeds we have planted, now awakened.

Finally
There will be growth,
There will be progress,
There will be abundance, overflowing.
We will be blessed
And called to be a blessing to others.

Finally
Our toils and tears will have justice.
Our faults and failures will have mercy.
But in our depth and in our death,
Grace:
Unconditional,
Richly lavished.

Countrymen
Bear the dry dust a little longer,
Just keep fighting the faith
And holding on to hope.
And when it comes,
Welcome the sky with open arms
But at the same time
Brace yourselves for

**Rain
Is
Coming.

the last time you left my apartment
back in may i had so much trouble
turning the doorknob after you
had  been  the  last  to  wrap
your   fingers   around  it
t h a t  i almost didn't
leave     for     work.
now i  c a n  barely
sit on my couch
or stand by the
kitchen door
or  pick  up
mysuitcase
or    touch
my own
s  k  i  n
in   the
s po ts
y  o  u
have.

that acrylic portrait you painted of
me is in the garage because it kept
falling off the wall as your ghost
moved silently through the halls
and unhinged the nails, you stood
in this room and opened the windows
blew the frames down and told me
to forget about you.