Thoughts on America
Poems
thin blue chalk line up on black tar gone gray called concrete curbs set -not reset- since The Great Depression. where old weeds the same weeds new weeds grow sometimes, though sometimes a dandelion grows, too sometimes, though some time a kid picks it up -plucks it up- blows the
Poems
For, My a Angel-Oh! Singed, while her house Went up in smoke. While her neighbors, -numbed and dutiful- -drummed the usual- Clutched their masks To cough in an elbow. In this suffocation: Low never knew Low, -And- Dark never knew Dark -And- Hell was a thing that chilled, While
Poems
People stop to smell the flowers in gas masks.
Poems
But I can’t America; I can’t make you Great again, Because you never were. Great is finished good; Greatest is finished great. You are not finished, America. You are a living document. Therefore you breathe; Therefore you grow. Make America Greater Again! Forward, everyday. Greater Everyday. The Never-
Poems
Rode around Frost's farm.
Poems
If the sky and the horizon bent properly, I could see those paper barked birches. Autumn -swung and knocked- swung and knocked Oak and ash and spruce and pine and even Evergreens Grumbled. Fat chirping squirrels bent trunks down. Elasticity whip snapped shot them back up. I crooked my neck
Poems
I am the mountain and the moon.
Poems
We feel so uncomfortable Saying the word soul. In the morning: We dress Our children for school. Then march Them off to war. In rooms: Full of Semi-automatic clouds of chalk. Full of The lingering smell of pencils. And tomorrow: Take an eraser To a predictably bloodied world. We