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White christmas
It’s a white christmas
a rich vs. poor gentrification winter
eviction happy overlords
made of mediocre white men
with minds the color of oatmeal
A nazi culmination of a year
determined to exterminate us
Cold Comfort
These days it is cold
comfort that most of us
feel the same when
the cold hard truth is
the man in charge is warm
in the comfort of yes men
and women he’s told
to wear dresses
Glass Blown Men
He is the same 2 hundred 85 pound
6 foot 4 eggshell of a man
he’s always been
Humpty Dumpty in the flesh
clinging by his fingernails
to the crumbling reign of his glory
To college football and a time
when he still had hair
pecks instead of breasts
his fists were allowed to solve things
and no-one cared how many noses he broke
or that he beat me
Oh how he laments
the good old days
The way all
glass blown men do
My Kind of Woman
She’s a cheshire grin kind of monster
A take her hand if you dare kind of beast
She’s a leap of faith demand
A both feet to the fire siren
And if you can’t find the courage
to follow her into the dark
There are others upon others
lined up and starving
to dive off of cliffs
for a piece of her mind
Angry Hands
He was the first to describe them that way
The first to put words to
the righteous anger that curls
fingers into teeth that bite palms
The first who did not tell me to ignore
Took my furious fists in his
larger than life hands and said
"Hit me instead.
As hard as you can.
Anywhere you want.”
So I did
And afterwards he
held me close
held me up
in front of everyone
as my heart broke open
my knees buckled
and my chest heaved with grief
loud enough for the whole street to hear
He was the first man
who didn’t let go
If He Ate a Thousand Crows
on his death bed I would pay my respects by shoving one more black winged bird down his dying throat
Wine and Smoke
A tipsy half way writer Half drunk or half on fire In a world already too full of would be poets wine and smoke