In spite of sadness everything grows

Maybe you don't have to get over it but you got to get up

I met a ghost named Lazarus

he was once a boy wild and turbulent

he was then a laborer who hammered every window, door, and port

nails and knives 

sailors warned of his rages and storms

boarded up at night everything he grew frightened of

one day the sky kicked in and he was a man

he foraged for years for a love given so rarely 

he gave away his skin

came back with a heart that didn’t recognize the bones and cartilage 

he lauded my capabilities in the beginning 

but he couldn’t locate any miracles inside of me 

dullness and an absence of coffee I waited at the booth 

and then moved the stars and earth to meet him 

aglow from the moon on the back porch 

he said your hope was something I birthed before you 

if you had only recognized it 

 

in this lifetime and the next 

I am a spectacle of dust, depth, black husk 

asking the moon did we make it home yet 

You had spirits take the front teeth out of you

I wish I knew what god could fix it.

If I had understood the stars in their beginnings

our dark passageway could have gone on living.

And when I lie awake staring at the night line

you stay out of my peripheral sight

blacked and bruised from the tides of our past lives.

Is the question open ended and unworn?

Can your fangs take back everything I withdrew?

Did the spirits resign all of God from you?

Open Season

ICE agents are building America back from the ground up

Taking the reigns from the police pyramid scheme and imperialist soil dreams

‘Take lives, alive or not!'

'Shake and throttle the social contract safety nets!’

‘Soldiers of land placement enforcement put my community into bankruptcy!’

The weather of the foreseeable open season:

snow, rain, freeze, sleet, gun range fire, funeral pyres

the merchants don’t miss a beat

- ‘OBEY! Wait not yet…sike!’

- ‘Let’s check your background, before you deploy settle in, bite into the

void....'

- Homeward bound rupture?

‘Broken ribs and Jesus in a headlock, you and I’s fellow man twice removed.'

- ‘Good for you.’

- Domestic explosion? Are you a loose and lost cannon? What is the

bandwidth?

‘Dear leader, the feminine I took care of back then was a symptom of

structural disturbance. I do best as a carpenter as thick as God’s boots to

stomp my home in. We now submit to wail and worship.’

- ‘Glad you took care of it and broke them into allegiance.’

- No name?

‘My signature is every man is ready made.’

- ‘Sign right here.’

- Who dropped you into this part of town, into this space as the planet

levitates?

‘I’m mad. I’m game.’

- ‘Sounds good to me.’

- Sleeked masks, high pay, brother your words are a grenade, so what do

you say?

‘Yippie ki yay! On the floor! Up against the wall!’

- ‘That’s the answer we have all been waiting for!’

- ‘Now remember sons, every interaction is a possible weapon.’

‘Sergeants, we love the phantom limbs and haunted plains that host the

Americas. Our adrenaline of USA was born for the new era of citizen and

constitutional reconstruction. We love the fear. We’ll take it from here.’

Dedicated a reading to you. Happy birthday, somewhere inside you're always here.

 

what kept me alive was the hope of the pulse of midnight dancing

at least I grew into my jawline, caught in the mirror recognize time is meant to redesign you

The life you dreamed and the one you woke up to 

in the morning 

soaked to the bone in the attic 

the search party still remembers 

you calling out to them through the static 

I’ve been sitting in the dark waiting for the light to come in, bad strategy

Let’s cut and try again

Because bread was so difficult to come by 

let alone wine 

I settled myself in for a ritual 

that out of all my catastrophes 

there would emerge the best miracles

when all the gifts wrap around you like cellophane that no one will end up opening