And here, 3000 miles away in the warehouse where I work, they are talking guns
Cardboard Poem Written on a Warehouse Wall
Why not get into this box? it said, there’s enough room for you to get away, to hide I thought about it as I held a box cutter in my handsWhy not get into this box? it said, there’s enough room for you to get away, to hide I thought about it as I held…
roost with a gun run from sunlight look for a fight forgot how to fly don’t want to know why pray they won’t be prey cry and wait cry and wait too late to cry and wait
i am not you
we be free do you see what i free not be you see i what free be me
all for naught fraught with care don’t be where you knot belong
I see the smoke in your car for a long time, the younger one says They get ouf of the truck and tell me to pop the hood
i know i go i flow i see i free i me part of whole a soul
he covers her cage with his rage, takes her song, tells her she’s wrong, weak, shouldn’t speak. she waits long for dawn.
he chose me
fresh with still-wet hair spit on my pubescent idea of fair, a wad on my head to add to my dread that he might lash out about a girl as wrong as a protest song
what is tomorrow?
what is tomorrow? does memory make me? can it break me? am i what was said? was i led to dread? what’s in my head?
i gave a bug a hug
i gave a bug a hug she was here first custodian of the universe. i watered her tree, thanked her for visiting me. we’re friends to the end. it’s war out there. we have to take care of each other.
Assembling a Wheelchair
And somewhere a wheel chair is being put together while a world tilts on its axis trying to find its bearings
Every Word i never said because of dread lives in my jaw reading law books rings in my ears, gives me dirty looks, plays with fear i hold dear.