I'm wading in a gentle love
(One that texts me every day)
A love that flows but never pushes
While the sun shines on my face
                                          .
Not too deep but no less lovely

There's no thought of what's below
                       .
Not a thought of what's unholy
           .
                                   o
No violent storm where we once fell
                         .
      o
                 .                                                 .
No engulfment nor impressions

        .
                         o

Of a monster deep beneath

                          .                          o

­   o
                             O

            .                                                 ­   .

No more dire premonitions   .

          .                                  .
O
             ­                      .

                     O
                                    

                         ­                    o

o

             O                .

    

     .               o




                                     .
As you swept me off my feet

In a 2013 study, human scientists wished to know
The depths of the heart of the common rat,
And devised an experiment to prove that
Empathy can exist even in the smallest of creatures.

The scientists, in their logocentric wisdom
Born out of centuries of Western philosophical tradition,
Metaphysical assumption, and scientific methodologies,
Trapped one rat in a tightly confined space and watched.

To their small-minded astonishment, the rats performed,
Again and again, the role of savior to their fellow rat.
They did this without need for compensation or compulsion
And, if given, shared the reward with their de-caged brethren.

But what the scientists failed to realize is, as is often the case,
That they themselves, with all their complex cognitive capacity,
Had failed an experiment which the rats navigated with ease.
For it was them who had caged the rat, and rats who set them free.

You know that I want you. I'm sure of it.
But still the little tortures come.
Your cheshire smile glowing brightly.
Your hand holding mine to your side.
Your unbridled compliments and playful digs
Each with their subtle symptom of love.

But you don't love me. You just love being loved.
And I'm tired of writing poems about you
And screaming to the heavens that I am yours.

A judge too beautiful to conjure has stolen what was once in my head:

The careful oddities of an amalgamation that apparently included you

And me and my childhood nanny (who was transformed into a dancing Jane Fonda).

Like a raging sign of my heart’s discontent; a honeymoon I refuse to entertain;

The sleep-sewn cloth of a dying emperor’s last adornment.

Where are you outside my pillow? Why have you come into my dreams?

Explanation be ******: get out! It was you who scorned me on your birthday,

And now I must kindly, failingly ask for your removal from my rotation of isolation.

Even if the times we shared were golden and last night was a dream!

Crossing this path for the third time. God, I hope it's the last.
Sometimes I wish I knew what was in your mind.
Other times I just laugh.

Bethany, we have such a hard history. Childhood was a brawl.
I wish I had more compassion for you.
We were both so small.

Now here we are for the third time; oh what a shameful act.
Is it that we have too much pride?
Or perhaps it's a lack.

Oh, the horrors of family relations.
Oh, the binds that wound our salvation.
Oh, the lack of any sense.
Oh, the death of innocence.

Back at church camp, we did not know. We were caught unawares.
I ****** his **** (I had never before).
He kissed you on your nose.

I hear now he's engaged to a girl. I guess you won in the end.
But we both lost so much dignity.
He's still my Facebook friend.

Oh, we were so gullible.
Oh, it felt so horrible.
Oh, the lack of any sense.
Oh, the death of innocence.

Score number two was my fault, I guess. I loved him very well.
In middle school he called you his girl.
Now we're all going to Hell.

But in my defense, he was my first kiss.
He might have been yours as well.
I'm sorry, my sister, for liking his hair, and all the lies I tell.

Oh, now I've gone and hurted myself.
Oh, I can never ask for your help.
Oh, the lack of any sense.
Oh, the death of innocence.

Three days ago I discovered the third, which you confirmed in a text.
Did it have to be with my Paris love?
It was the first time I had ***.

Still, I win. If anyone can.
You'll date him in Ohio. It's mean to say, but it's the truth.
You're just his beard and a smile.

I want to say this, little sis. I wish that we could be friends.
But secrets breed secrets, which breed some more.
And we all die in the end.

Well, baby, I've been here before,
Jonathan snuck out my door.
You know, I never meant to ***** ya.

I loved him good and I loved him well,
There's nothing more that I have to tell.
He's nothing like my brother, hallelujah!

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah.

Abolish the police for crimes against us
(Go further; to the root)
Abolish the prisons that enslave us
(Go further; to the root)
Abolish the Guard turned against us
(Go further; to the root)
Abolish the army primed to stop us
(Go further; to the root)
Abolish the chief who rails about us
(Go further; to the root)
Abolish the laws that sanction “justice”
(Go further; to the root)
Abolish the state unjustly above us
(Go further; to the root)
Abolish the capital propping them up
(Go further; to the root)
Tear down their factories choking us
(Go further; to the root)
Crush the billionaires into dust
(Go further; to the root)
Abolish the voice inside of us
That tells us the world simply “must”

My arms are aching
Not from excess, but from a lack
I do not touch

I do not touch you
Something stops me every time
I do not touch

I do not touch you
But I can't stop wanting
I do not touch

I do not touch you
I do not touch
I do not touch I do not touch

But my arms are aching
I am sore from a lack of reaching
I do not touch.

Love is something given
Freely
Not something you earn
Why
Do I struggle remembering
That
When I'm with you while I
Try
So hard to be what and
Who
You're looking for.

This is my ode to the nation I hate. Gluttons for war. Haters of women. Priced out and maxed out and imprisoned and impoverished.

Here's to the wide open spaces that make my heart sing and my soul fly as I ****** the earth in a two-ton death trap waiting to ensnare me. Here's to the freedom to spit on the homeless; accuse the downtrodden; shoot the black. Here's to limitless dreams forged in minds that don't know any better.

God bless the open road. God bless each and every freedom we ignore. God bless the Dow and our hopes of a better life.

I never understood the color hazel
Until I looked into his eyes

His arms feel strong
But they make me so weak

The world of your body
Is the air I breathe

Sometimes just leaving
Is easier than saying goodbye

I swore I'd do a life cleanse before I saw you again.  But here I am at your door.

It is a very human tragedy
That we can name more lengths
Of waves of light than our eyes
Can or will ever comprehend

To know that something exists
And is very likely beautiful
Just outside our grasp, forever
Is the most human thing of all

At least to me.

There I was, as a child, sat
Beneath the willow tree
Beside the pool
Near the badminton court
While soft branches swayed down
Wisping onto the neighbor's yard
Like the gentle caress
Of a lover's touch
Or the fall of your hair
As you lean down for a kiss
In the pool of pillows
Where I make my nest

A child then and a man now
I love it in your shade

The crushing consideration
That maybe I wasn’t meant
To survive this storm

Or the scarier thought
That maybe the storm won’t come at all
And this will all have been for nothing

Yesterday he gave me that look.
He furrowed his brow with deep concern
To tell me how proud he was
Of me.

Yesterday he drunkenly hugged me
And when I pulled away
He grabbed me again
And whispered,

"I'm not done with you yet."

Yesterday I wished he would be
Done with me yet.
But only just
Yesterday.