there is no world either, only perfect glances
gathered in hand like the stems of flowers;
like empty boots on a battlefield, standing
upright and waiting for rain, or thrown,
​bloody with fleshy legs into a cart.

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The world thunders along, in denial of
Promises, rights and liberties
In its reversal of 
Language,
Lie threadbare all egalitarian notions!

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If I must be armed, I’ll fit pink flowers
in each barrel, shoot petals in moonlit
massacres, the only howl
my own feral salute. If I must be armed
I’ll stow them all away in glacial cold,

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Curiosity’s delay of 13.48 minutes
isn’t forever, but it’s enough.
Enough time for a man to choke
with a knee on his neck.

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This poem is about Ron DeathSentence Florida man
He's come to screw you any way he can
Whatever you do don't say gay
Make all bad thoughts go away

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We are caught in now’s particulate,
terrain where our footprints, dim signs,
will tell a tale to other eyes,
if eyes erupt again in the infinite epic

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on beaches
too distant to reach
​or never there;

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When history gets bleached until White
Folks can see there is no truth in the light.
You might have heard the news -
DeSantis claims he can choose
What history about Blacks should be right.

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the critical race theory, and revisionist book bans
wondering what rabbit to pull out of what hat. The J. Edgar low men
in high places. They move in packs & cast long shadows, create
convenient terrorists, criminals, enemies, domestically and abroad.

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I think about parts of the heart sticking to the ribs, imagine the coroner scraping the bones like they’re frenched lamb cutlets. Time is syrupy in isolation. There are no weekdays and weekends, just time passing.

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I’m not bathing in blood, but it’s certainly not water, either, that covers my eyes and flirts with the edges of my nostrils.

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Trying to light a wet cigarette
with a faltering match, and I wonder
​if my readers are also living life in vain:

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I am muted
             A muted singer
I am blacklisted
​             A blacklisted song writer

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What happens when chaos becomes beautiful?
When the lightning falls,
when the old guard topples,
when the broken bell tolls
​for the final time?

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Li Qingzhao wandered lonely as a cloud
Emily Dickinson wandered lonely as a cloud
Virginia Woolf wandered lonely as a cloud
Marina Tsvetaeva wandered lonely as a cloud

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once god becomes a weapon
there is no such thing as a war that
can be won
 
you fight just because it
feels so good to kill

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Please be kind to strangers
Who hunker down in subplots
Where reckless voices almost blend
​But most of us are still not allowed to attend

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My children watch me struggle
not to send myself back to space.
We pretend my shadowy smiles fool
people formed in time with my pulse.

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Brick five twelve tried
to overthrow the government
but nobody seemed to care
or notice

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You are all that matters in your border town.
Bullets ping into stone walls inches from your shoulders.
Stuff falls from the sky, lands near you.
Arms swing and fists send air the way of your chin.

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They’re talking away
nothing urgent, nothing Earth shattering
but substantive nonetheless
like an old idea worked around from a new
​vantage point.  Did you hear about?

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. Amerikkka is a mongrel insensitivity to empathy
 
. A capitalist concept
                                  of man
                                  exploits man

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our mouth of grapes
a profile at a bar, again a sigh and cough
have a heart
forgive my sway
I’m done now.

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We’ve got Fritz, as always, to guide the way
for our philosophical jaunt today
and to remind us all, though it is grim,
​that God is dead and we have killed him.

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poultry air raid bombastic
missionaries regenerate scabs
sore momentum badge
constructed wholesale bee

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The answer is: may plasma be a state of nature, may my aisle be flooded with fluorescence, may there be a balm in Gilead and may there be an inferential estimate in each machine.

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Injure life support of the other species
          and slowly disable your own.
Perceive redwoods as greenbacks shivering
​          and shrink people into coinage.

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