My dad always told me I was useless
At times like this I believe him
Could have stood up for him
Could have pushed the kids who hurt him away
Could have, could have, could have I could but I didn’t
I didn’t because I was scared
Fear is our worst enemy they say
I think fear is our best friend
He stops us from doing things that we shouldn’t
Because if I stood up for him that day
He would not have learned to fight for himself
At least that’s what I say to ease my guilt
The guilt I got after listening to my best friend.
Listening to only what he said

The chemistry that     mixes within me
is a hurricane,      when you catch my eye.

come one, come all.
gather 'round, gather 'round the table.
you'll find your invitations—
corporations' coupons—packed
between stories of Indigenous
People, shot by militarized cops in riot gear.
Water Protectors defending the river
while a black snake rears to poison the well.
tear gas, rubber bullets, and concussion grenades
replace ragged blankets draped in smallpox.
a tradition rooted in genocide
upheld in frigid North Dakota.
no need to ponder
the lasting legacy
of a leader who campaigned
on "hope" and "change." a hypocrite
continuing a tradition of colonial
aggression, lying by omission.
just another facet
of his presidential profession.
so drown the news of a fascist's
election in gravy and eggnog,
viscous substances to gorge
yourselves on. Nazis vandalizing
black churches with swastikas
must've escaped your notice.
vacuous, preaching
that Jesus is the reason
for the season, but i think
your savior would flip
your Thanksgiving Table over.
flimsy pretenses of gratitude
discarded hours later, chasing deals
before your stomach could even settle.
your brand new 4K TV
cost you over $4K, but couldn't give you
a clearer picture. you continue to disregard
the smoke signs and headlines,
pursuing the material.
consume!

Standing outside just to breathe fresh air,
maybe I'm pretty dull for enjoying the feeling of standing there.
But there's just so much to take in, so much see,
so much to hear and feel and experience "here to be".
And yet there's something else here,
something I can't comprehend.
It's a comfort that for as long as I can stand here I cannot understand.
But's it's not a feeling of pure madness,
I know that feeling is long gone.
It's a pleasant aroma, a strengthening touch, and a beautiful song.
I don't know if others feel or felt this,
but I surely hope some have.
It's a feeling better than smiling the widest smile,
or the most jolly filled laugh.
Now I know why I live here,
it's this feeling that I must share,
the feeling that can summon so much joy from only standing there

I loved, though not mine
That invisible notion that creates substance.
Saw as a pedestrian crossing the street; Watching

This love seemed theatrical
Standing still; Watching
The persona of something we knew not where we belonged
Searching

Perhaps I was lost. Standing there; Watching
To hear another speak
To watch as a pedestrian on the street

To pretend to be the smile that crossed her face
That industrial glow that colored her cheek
Tattooed sidewalks

The fast paced nature given; metropolis
Just seen walking around
Cars burrow deep into traffic; Watching

The capacity of taking delight in something so simple; Watching
Fickle
The grim street corner over by the third traffic light

Perhaps we stumble
Learning to walk; standing still
The clouds sympathetic in nature
Blurred the allure of the sun

I loved, though not mine
This notion becoming witness; Watching
This momentum walking fast pace; Watching

Slender shoulders cast angular shadows
Advancing up the grim street; Watching
Following the curve of concrete ladders

I loved, though not mine
The presence of strangers; Watching
A community of thought
Civilized in public

An unseen riot that wreaks carnage; walking
Her stare
That industrial glow
An invisible notion

Saw as a pedestrian crossing the street; Watching
Loitering
Stepping out into traffic
Getting hit by a parked car