we asked
mother

for silence

the wind
to calm

the birds
and the bees

to sleep

we just
wanted

to see
to take in

each other

clearly and
completely

and maybe
believe in

a future

there is rain
in my brain

a thunderstorm
of words

freaking
fracking
crackling
cracking

starting
fires

I cannot
extinguish

asking
questions
giving
answers

in the same
sentence

who is you
and am I real

and what
in the world

is the big deal

I was sinking
losing myself

you could

still see me
so you thought

I was safe
and never

reached out
to lift me

and I thought
I was floating

so I never asked
for your help

I know the sound.  of a lonely highway.  
it is a hymn.  a longing for meaning.

a prayer answered.  mysteriously.
I walked that way before.  

scuffed my knees.  on broken glass.
a green beer bottle.  in the gutter.

I bled.  for my belief.
in something more.

I wear my soul.
on the outside.

reveal my stains.
a purple heart.

to everyone.

does it leave fast
or does it

linger in place
soaking in

everything
one last time

will I feel it
leave and

will it take with
it the memories

of me

will I hear it
say goodbye

will I know
where it goes

and will I care

the rapids
take me

energy
compressed
into a pill

lost in
the speed
of veins

blood
racing

filling every
empty space

creating a
momentary
light

ness

spreading
an artificial

life

I am not always
an animal

the moon eats
and eats

until it is full
pulling something

out of me
I can’t control

I tried to fight it
but it forces its

way out

it needs on
this night

to live
to ****
to feed

on fresh meat

until it is full
and the moon

is fasting

it descends
inside of me

as the moon
begins its feast

until it is full

an admonition
to a child

we learn
so much

from each
other

to be shy
and never

try to
be more

than our
place

we were
placed

before we
knew

our place
and now

we know
our place

so we
don’t

try

I am made of glass
spreading my light.

over you.

helping you see.
what matters.

truth is immortal
it can be buried

but it will not die
you are mortal

so you may not
have to face truth

but your history
will be changed

when truth rises
from your grave

as you have grown
you have grown on me

accepted all the
sticks and stones

and the hurt
hurled at you

and remained strong
or grew stronger

I can feel it
in your sounds

I can hear it
in your words

true beauty bends
but doesn’t break

and maybe someday
I will shake it off

like you

I am a silvery pill
consumed by her

compressed chemicals
dissolved by her wet

released into her cells
and spreading

past the ephemeral
racing to what matters

exploding into colors
she never played with

before

she is a hand puppet
leading a holiday parade

of mayhem and laughter
of material destruction

seeing past the ephemeral
racing to what matters

now I

let go
and let in

the soft
thoughts

the warm
rain

the spray
of silly
string

the deep
breath before

whispering
a secret

to a friend

the blankets
pulled over
my head

the cushion forts
the snow angels

the almost

naked dancing
in the dark

a brain that
doesn’t still

shivering
from life

in a

cold water
shower

paint the
rain blue

so it matches
my soul

we are those
lost in the

the pain
of early

loss

broken before
we grew all

our parts

so we never
felt whole

the rain falls
for days

the dam bursts
and we make

discoveries in
the wet dirt

we are not clean
we learn that

what goes on

in the gray matter
doesn’t really matter

it is a laboratory
where we experiment

on each other
sending shocks

until one of
us succumbs

the rain was hard and sudden

feeling like broken sheets of glass
falling from the dark side of the sky

surrounding us like silver zombies
we could not escape our fate

the road filled and then flooded
and we collapsed under the weight

of yesterday

a highway of those ******* birds
descended upon us

different people give them
different names

we call them an omen

they cackle and dance
flying so close together

they seem as a black hole
swallowing the planet

after he leaves

when can we
rid ourselves

of his disgusting
dirt that

covers us all
we can’t help

but feel unclean
how long will

it take to
**** out

his poison
from our systems

he has infected
so much

COVID 19
is a virus

CORRUPTION 16-20
is a disease

from the city of Mo…Town

he started young
with another

making more sounds
with less

than any other

red and white
were their only colors

their words were
sharp and entered quick

no blood was shed
with their *******

messaging
reverberation

they flowed through veins
giving life

to shriveling souls
and hardening minds

sharp cuts
feel less pain

she thought
I loved her

because I
said so

but what did
I know

I had less
blood

in my brain

she said
I was lost

like the devil

and she was
probably right

like the devil
I was rejected

by my
first love

even to you
I lie a little

hold something
back

I need something
to protect me

you probably
sense it

you’ve probably
heard it all before

and still you
forgive me

give me your
blessing

so I can feel
forgiven

thanks mom

jump
jump
jump

they scream

jump

I am on
the edge

with weak
knees

and no
words
on my
tongue

I cannot
feel my
skin

the heat
is melting
me

and I
want
to faint

and fall

so it
will
appear

that I
jumped

maybe I
will hit
my head

on the way
down

and bleed
out

and sink

so I don’t
have to

lose face

she is star
of the evening

hours

twirling on
a stump above

the pond a
fog is forming

creating a mystery

as butterflies and
lightning bugs

dance around her

all she wears
is a thin white
dress

that lifts and
flows

exposing her
dreams to her

subjects

I can relate

escaping to
your hole

we can never
dig deep

enough

we can never
create enough

holes

to feel safe
can we

sing a song
to me

like you used to

make it soft
and sappy

so I can sleep
and dream

happy dreams

please

sing a song
to me

like you used to

…
…
…

your voice
is weak today

or my memory
is fading

a naked shoulder
rounds into shape

she has two tattoos

one a shadow
of the other

a name
covered
by a rose

thorns
exposed

larger than
the bright
red
petals

a stem
extending
down her
thin
wanting arms

like a vein
emptying
pain

into her
heart

seeds hold

the secrets
of life

the patterns
that make us

the same

we bury
them and

hope no one
notices

we are not
really unique

but seeds never
remain buried

and secrets are
always told

and we see

ourselves
in each other

even if we
refuse to

admit we

all come from
the same seed

there is light
that falls

from the sky
stars that

fall and die

and we make
a wish

that witnessing
their death

will bring

us fortune
or fame

shut me in
I am contagious

I do not scream
my words

they are loud
without sound

they reach the heart
of the mind

in no time

they are the
center of the

earth

power compressed
into a small space

a black hole
a dark star

a force
controlling

shut me in
I am dangerous

first day

sits up straight
hands folded

on his desk

looking straight
ahead

the bell rings
he is quiet

ready to listen
he hears the

whispers
around him

he is not
tempted
by them

they do not
disturb him

he knows his
limitations

he can only
focus on

one thing
at a time

and now

it must be
the teacher

the early world
detached

in chaos there
are no limits

no lessons
learned

and shared

there is such
randomness

in connections
and there are

no deep roots
to hold us

together
to ground us

we are prone
to shock

to get your
attention

to see our
loose wires

and fix them
before they

create damage

the orange man
had a wish

he spoke words
he wanted others

to wish with him
if we all just believe

it will come true

we will wake up
in 15 days

and everything will
be great again

lay down fresh
soil in a bed

plant a seed
and watch it

grow

each drop is
nourishing

it first presses
against soil

then emerges

as a slight form
expanding

up and out
ending as

colorful sweet
smelling petals

protected by
long dangerous

stems

I lick a thorn
and make a wish

after I
open them

I give them
space

because like
fine wine

I want
my words

to breathe
before you

drink them
I want you

to taste
their fullness

their delicacy
their sweet

bitter notes
that will

stay with you
and become

part of you

information
is easy

knowledge
takes work

and wisdom
asks for

everything

he is a silly man

in his past life
when he spoke

it happened

but that was a
simpler life

with problems
that could be

fixed by others
just by wishing it so

in this life
problems are much

more complex

and people around him
are not paid by him

do not work for him
may not believe in him

are not controlled by him

in this life just
because he says it

doesn’t make it so
he has to work

for it and

I don’t think the
silly man

likes to work
or knows how

the change
from one

day to
the next

you are

searching
for a path

as if it
exists but

if the truth
is nothing

is laid out
it means

you will
have to

carve a
new path

understand
the truth

of carving

you will have
to destroy

things you love
and you don’t

really get to
choose

things will happen
you will cause

pain in others
and you will
have to live

with that pain
true leadership

is lonely

you will have
followers but

they will never
understand

your sacrifice

I know it is fading
there is more

weight around me
people trudge along

looking for conflict

creating a world
without laughter

I want to tap
everyone on the

shoulder and ask
them if they

remember how to
make a baby laugh

we are not
at our best

we tried to
bury pain

paint over
the layers

knowing
there was

rot in our
foundation

hoping we
would not

have to face
the collapse

that’s for
the next

family to
deal with

but eventually
there is no

next family
and we have

to face
the fact

we are it

her words
rained on me

I was drenched

her words
reigned over me

I was obedient

I could not think
without using

her words
her mind

pre-dated
everything

I knew to
be true

love is a
weak word

to say to her

she was young
without direction

her road
was not paved

each step
was rough
on her bare feet

and she slipped
so many times

cutting herself

leaving partly healed
scars all over

the lonesome
highway is
eternal

once it finds you
there are no off-ramps

only rest stops

it feasts on
roadkill

leaving behind
the softest parts

I smell like
spaghetti

not a neat
eater

I always
dig in

face first
and slurp

with my nose

I push the
meatballs

aside to
play with

later

it is a meal
fit for king

another creature.  with her tongue.  in my ear.
whispering words.  implanting seeds.
I think.  I think.  these thoughts.
but maybe.  I don’t think.
maybe.  they aren’t thoughts.
maybe.  they are lines.
I don’t remember.
memorizing.

the little ones
we are young

asking simple
questions

of each other

exploring
experimenting

with words
we are still

learning

we don’t know
what we

don’t know or
what we are

supposed to know

we have not
been buried

in a mountain
of shoulds

so we play
the natural way

everything isn’t
a war

and every opposition
isn’t an enemy

someone I trust

started his book
with the line

“life is difficult”

we all have problems
that’s life

and the more we
accept this truth

the easier life becomes
we stop expecting

the impossible and
go about living

and living means
learning to solve problems

so we work together
to solve our problems

and see that

everything isn’t a war
and everyone isn’t

our enemy

they ask me
if I am lost

I shrug and think
about it

I say

lost just happens
something that was

isn’t there

eventually
I notice the space

in my mind
in my heart
in my soul

sometimes it is dark
sometimes it is light

I have learned

it isn’t always
a bad thing

to be lost
they walk away

I’m not sure
if I answered

their question

it is never good.  when only one voice speaks.  
it is worse.  when many voices speak.  
but they say the same thing.

some big cities

are running out
of space

not really

they are running
out of compassion

greed and power
are bottomless pits

sinister identical twins
living off

brains and hearts
using big words

to hide their
missing spaces

where once lived
their brains and hearts

enough space to
house the planet

below a genus

we share something

at some level

we are the same

and at some level

we are different

we can choose

what we see

but we can’t change

that at some level

we are the same

I can’t swim

but even I
wouldn’t drown

in most of the
statements made by
the talking heads

the politicians and
those who talk

to them and
about them

past tense

muscle has
memory

it remembers
you

all over

the heat from
the moments

that meant
more

the anticipation
of forever

and I wonder

does rain
feel pain

when it ends