Poetry

"...who he's become..."

"...trying to find their way..."

"...soliloquy as commentary..."

"...returned to the elms and eastern hemlocks..."

"If only it was July..."

"...Indigenous groups have been finally granted land rights..."

"...I was back in Gaza..."

"Your television lies to you..."

"...faces warmed five degrees by sunshine..."

"...on the scale of competitive stink..."

"...the wind is only a whisper in my ear..."

"Soil trickles through fingertips..."

Who is going to stop this madness?

"...I say it so carefully..."

"...it plays hide-and-seek..."

"...mesmerizing us with Afro-Cuban songs..."

"...I'm left a dancer who can't hear the music..."

"...The sea, insatiable, has known many like her..."

"...the artist’s tears are dammed for all he understands..."

"This city walks on barefoot..."

Strains. Pains. Cheerless.

"...That insidious virus hasn’t gone anywhere..."

"My sister’s a chair..."

"...that must have been another me..."

"...gravestones are metaphysical name tags..."

"This is a letter to the man who lashed out..."

"Sad, like, red, is a conveniencism..."

"You asked me to write a poem..."

"...Are we not emotive and spiritual creatures?..."

"... the brutal cold takes his breath away..."