i hold my knees down
thoughts swirl after i answer
monsoon is endless
Child Abuse
sonnet for the trafficked
streets wet with ocean dew by the train stop
girls with glittering mouths dance in the eyes
men who lost their wages to sinful lust
we smoke with lights out every other block
in the ally they waste covered with flies
bended knees to a system that’s not just
our dreams fast escape through broken windows
on some faces a smile is just a lie
through loss of self remember not to trust
we long for those we love trapped in shadows
filthy shame to cause our blood to rust
the soul cauterized from love so we die
walk the streets with spirits that now are crushed
the warmth of hearts these mean streets have frozen
at night our cries hush
waterfalls in John Wayne movies
in the city
there are no waterfalls
just runny slimy drips
on rusted pipes
amid the feet of children
who dance
some of us conjuring wishes
between bus lines and electric poles
there was poetry in hips of maids
testosterone sonnets from metal lunchboxes
in the city pigeon shit awning
ten jewelry stores each selling
radios from Lebanon
waterfalls in John Wayne movies
fifth grade wishes Wonder Woman
jacket and a pink Barbie brush set
eating my words [xv]
steinfranken
hemorrhaging thought
this thing inside the mind has lost the path of where its from chromosomes in a situation room in outer space the Earth has crowded me
shit really he says the days of roses haunts me the road to stray is right outside are you sure about that picking sage and ask permission BB King i heard you holler Lucille my love
strings flap churning trains of thought wishes prayers gone amok by the howling wolf in a poet’s dream the sting of death follows me pluck one then two then three the boy won’t ever find me until he looks inside of him there i will beat pulsing with the flow of light
thrift store dogma
orphan
i often forget his smile the glint of his eyes pulling an old dog eared letter i touch his cursive delicate but unintelligible there are no particular ideas in the tight ringlets of pale black ink his mind was full of scorpions she never returned to him they both mad with ego and one uppance i progeny alone i with a heart full of wasps
angelitos
my city she loves
the kids and all that they are
they have voices too
blunted
why so tough kid cry or something
i’m ok man don’t trip
your friend overdosed in the hall by the curtained room
are you telling her folks or who
we called your dad isn’t he coming
no he said
do you want to go to the hospital your nose is bleeding
it does that when i hurt
oh did you fall down
no i hurt for my friend growing up even my toys were mechanical
words less spoken 