The whole world
has pictures, explosions
we hold in our palms
Stars & stripes ripple from the pole.
An old willow leans over the water,
strand after strand of green tears.
I wake up overwhelmed
with love. Time slows.
I hear each beating of
the wings on a hummingbird.
at 2:30 a.m. to flick the cockroaches scuttling
along the low wall on the front edge of the roof
onto traffic on Charles Street below
This intensity, this buildup
of noise—Help us! —an echo of an old human
refrain through the mad and fucked up timbres
of our human history.
Clothed in my cheap JC Penny’s suit, holding a bible, sitting on a container of disinfectant that smells like murder, like what they’d use to clean the war machine of … Continue reading
Humanity fluctuates with power, morality, and truth. There’s more than one way to be objectified.