Writing poetry isn’t as easy as it used to be
With the world as it is nowadays.  

Our bodies have changed—
Lungs struggling to breathe,
Neurons fighting for relief.
Plans for a perfect life
Titled into bitter disarray
As hope flies off a cliff-face
& hearts sink into dismay.

Martyrs ascending daily—
Victims of the imperial machine.
Lands stripped bare of wealth
In the name of corporate greed.

What of the women & children?
The innocent? Trans people?
Lesbians & gays? Is it really all
A question of orientation, gender,
***, & melanin in the skin?

Will we ever overcome these
Aggressions that grow from
Within our injured selves
& rid the planet of rampant
Evil before it rids itself of us?