when i need my glasses to find my glasses it’s hilarious
and i have you to laugh with me, with eyes doing cartwheels
holding my vulnerables in your risk-averse, soothing the calamity
of my ambitions with the verity of your love.
i yield the floor to your silent declaration that you will devour me-
come evening… and i serve at the pleasure of your chaste lust
devoted to our collisions, like a pigeon with a thing for windows
with you on the other side.

They were kept
subdued

numbed emaciated-
through achievements trophies appearances and

being someone to be bragged about
by someone elses mouth

being someone to show off about
proud to be a

responsible consumer and number;
those who broke free

labelled witches, crazies--
thats what they did

they kept all the humans
in a trance a daze

so that they could fall asleep
knowing that somewhere

beds were bombed
and babies mutilated.

thats how this culture slept nights
pushing each of the vulnerables

the ones who could see
and feel and grieve and not

shut off-- till they died
overwhelmed from the burdens

of family, friends and surviving
on this paradise that we have made

into an ambiguous warzone
where the healers are killed tacitly

and when they die
cry and cry and o cry.

thats how we slept nights
pushing the trembling ones to the brink of

pulling the knife
and once dead

we cry and cry
o what a shame o if only they were still alive.