If words are a bubbling brook
above the geyser of our hearts,
they’re poised
to say something about
the nature of our spirituality—
a disjointed but shared reality—
seeking comfort
in the womb of bad religion.
A carcass with a pulse,
a miracle dipped in myrrh,
perfumed a Jewish beard
and consecrated a blameless soul…
This poem is for all of us,
horse lovers,
who feel that horses
make the world
a better place.
This world is so unfriendly and unkind. How’s a teenager with Zeus’s ADHD, the rage of Achilles and the passion of Paris supposed to survive the suburban hostility of drive-by bullets of bullying and cliques of cruelty with privileged popularity without losing his mind? If you want to get to know me then…
Sometimes monsters
of our own making
show up relentlessly
until we look introspectively
at the mess we’ve made
when we’ve felt incarcerated
without the possibility of parole
as both our own judge and jury.
Kindness is more than a word,
although all words have spark of light
because words bleed meaning,
infused with divine birthright
even out of the mouths
of mortals and neophytes.
Everyone wants to know
life’s greatest mystery.
It’s simple:
read your history
and exchange your brokenness for beauty,
your porcelain mask for the Japanese art
of Kintsugi.
“A diary,
documenting a life in hiding;
her pen,
an ally in the fighting,
inciting a literary rebellion
against Svengalis and Nazis—
cannibals,
tearing body and flesh
to pieces;
spitting out bones
like animals,
praying in the name of Jesus”
Just walkin into a room
requires all the courage
I can muster.
Exposed like a nerve.
Afraid to smile.
Do I let you in—
a place you don’t deserve
to make fun of my face
and call me “Herman Munster”?
Walkin up,
wearin Supreme,
holdin my skateboard,
takin jokes to the extreme,
trying to find my tribe,
my people group.
I’ll know when I’m home:
kind eyes find me
as collective lips pronounce,
“We-e-e a-a-are Groo-oot!”
“…distinguishing our friends on TikTok
from the system failure of the Matrix,
fictional agents who trip on the trip-wire
of a progressive déjà vu,
sounding the alarm for Pokémon
like Pikachu,
whose evolution to Raichu
seals the demise
of politicians and preachers
who wear a postmodern disguise.”