careful friendthey comefor you the noose – the gallowsknows no blueor redit only knowsobsequiousdeferred a bitand not on end tilt a little andwatch the windblow youout to seano wind cares thatyou can’t breathe saltor that flyingis not your thing and no my friendi won’t be hereto answer foryour faiththey will have sent mehelter skelterinto outerContinue reading “careful friend”
Monthly Archives: January 2025
Cancel culture
We have done this likeforeverhaven’t we? When Anna’s cousin wasbeaten to death by Mrs. Hicksfor falling asleep overa crying childthe toll of countlesssleepless nights was notconsidered – no being aslave meansstay awake,stay awake, stay awakeor die.The child belonged toMrs. Hicks.Of course.The crime was falling asleep.Not the torture.Not the beating her dead. We have done thisContinue reading “Cancel culture”
Hyperthermophile*
If I were a betting womanmy money would be on youresident of Old Faithfullingerer on a deep-sea venttolerant of Death Valley I betyou are doing just fine in Salem,Oregon June of 2021 I doubtthis weather is phasing youat all, minute though you arenaked to my eye so smallbut fierce like the vireodefending her eggs fromContinue reading “Hyperthermophile*”
Checkpoint Charlie*
Can you imagine it? Littlebrown skinned children evadingthe sharp eyes of the Texasgovernor giving all those legislatorsCovid, yes those little devils,challengers of walls and all things thatinjure wildlife roam the stateCapitol in this, the hottest ofwars Mister patriotic, friend ofthe KGB, (well formerly), seems toget a kick out of blamingchildren – poor children that is,sinceContinue reading “Checkpoint Charlie*”
In the time of rain and dust
This is the place to beor so say those nerdyfolks who watchthe sun, dig at treeroots, study the fish,this land where thepeople change fromBedouins to skippersin days, years,minutes – in the landwhere snow disappearsinto hoax like it neverwas This is where wildfiresdevour fewer homesheat domes don’t settlewires do not meltwhere lungs, livers andhearts stand aContinue reading “In the time of rain and dust”
Living on the coast of drama
It sure is addictivethe constant pressureto one-upman-uppush the extra weightoff this water boundairshipinto the thicket ofbramble and gatorsnake at the readyvenom constantliving canwear a personplum out and that’s the pointof coursebury me in thedowntrodden seaso I neverspeak again my voice is justa rat gnawingat that broken-down consciousof yours but even a midgehas to eator howContinue reading “Living on the coast of drama”
The death revelers
What a curse it isthis touchingdisplay of the love ofhatred and fearwords that go bydifferent names these daysthe vigilante asvictim My window on the worldnever ceases to amaze me There is a hierarchy frombig to small fromsquirrel to jay to sparrowwhat is a poorchickadee to do? Dart in dart outlive a life on the runforContinue reading “The death revelers”
Creating Eden
The brown marmosetstink bug restsupon my deckrigid in anticipationas Isweep him intoa pail ofsoapy water I could of coursecrush himsqueeze out thevery juice of himbut they aren’t calledstink bugs byaccident tending a gardenisn’t easy but when the monarchsits against apuddle of waterand the finchesmunch on echinaceaseeds and the toadscurries beneath thefallen leavesoh my heavenshe isContinue reading “Creating Eden”
1619
Money will follow a lieorthe lie follows the moneytake your pickboth are true When a child is separatedfrom his mother inTexas or Arizona orwhereverknow that the gun soldsouth to a drug lord inGuatemala or El Salvador orwhereverthis is the linkthis – the gun Follow the money thatfollows the lie orthe lie that follows themoneytake yourContinue reading “1619”
less than
an antforms a mound withnumerous cousinseasily stepped on a bee with stingerscannotconsume you the warp oftoad can fit intothe palm of yourhandyou can blow itto smithereens a body the colorof bark canhang from asouthern tree a girl from thereservation candisappear intonothingnever seen a journalistspeaking truthis tortured intolies – he toovanishes the world knowslots of themtheContinue reading “less than”
Anne's mediocre poetry 