Category: War & Politics
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Change 2026
thunder proceeds the storm the flash – the swirling winds we were not deaf or blind we disregarded warnings we got caught in the rain and only have ourselves to blame and only we can drag ourselves inside dry off and change our clothes 6-13-26
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end of season
Summer came they sheared the dog went to the beach stripped naked or as close as the law allowed They hoped a shark would not catch them off shore – off guard, there would be less cloth to spit before it swallows they also hoped a shark would not catch them off guard – on…
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rescue dogs
Rescue dogs press ribs against chain link fences. Hunger grows fur and learns to whimper. Each carries a story written in mange, cigarette burns, missing ears, limps that predicted rain. When anyone lifts their hand too quickly, a brindled mutt hides beneath a plastic chair. Volunteers call them damaged, but the dogs still wagged their…
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(untitled) no matter how sharp
No matter how sharp No matter how strong A sword is just a sword I fear the swordsman – not The artisan at the forge 5-20-26
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peaceful afternoon
On a peaceful afternoon I sit in the shade and imagine myself in Gaza. I sit on a pile of rubble and wave a white flag at the Israeli soldiers. I tell them I’m writing an article about genocide and how it impacts the surviving generations. They cover their faces and call in an air…
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The Anatomy of Municipal Job Security
When a private contractor runs a 50′ waterline, they send two men and a truck. When the city runs a 50′ waterline, they send eight men and four trucks. And that is just to check out a job site they scouted three months ago. Days later, two different men and a truck will come to…
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Ten months
Died, such a small word, but oh the weight it drags behind it. It has been ten months and the FAA finally released your personal effects. Your mother needed to sift through where zippers whispered confessions, smudged finger prints gave testimony you were alive. It seemed an invasion of your privacy and I refuse to…
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Scented candles
Summer days burned like scented candles. Flames bent to drafts we could not feel. Whiffs of smoke vandalized the brightness of time, smudged the walls of tomorrow’s room. Slow ruin settled in like urban squatters. Residue learned our names, waited in corridors of breath, COPD grew mold in our chest and now speaks in pidgin…
My husband's poetry 