Tag: poem
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Well-Worn Path
The spine gives way without a fight,The margins wear a known design;You trace the shadows in the lightWhere younger eyes once read this line. No sudden turn will take you unawares,No tragic twist can steal the day;You climb the same familiar stairsAnd know what each voice has to say. The tea grows cool beside the…
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Officer Eddie Price
A father holding court paperwork,asking for help to find his child.Eddie Price didn’t see a father.He saw an inconveniencestanding in the open air.So he pulled the chemical spray.He threw the punch.He took a desperate man downwhose only crime was demanding help.Strip away the badge,strip away the gun,and all that remainsis a bully hiding behind power.
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Womb Service
They love youwhen you’re quiet.When you’re curled.When you’re theory.When you’re womb-shaped and wordlessand not asking for breakfast. They love youin bumper sticker font.In ultrasound grayscale.In the sermon, the slogan,the sanctified soundbite. But once you breathe?Once you cry?Once you need shoes,a school, a sandwich,a mother who isn’t working three jobsto prove you deserve to exist? Suddenly,you’re…
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Box Office Ethics
Macklemore wears a ugly nose.Cancelled.Kanye shouts “Heil Hitler.”Headliner.Same stage.Money talks.
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The Pull
The phone call that breaks a parent’s spirit rarely starts with a scream; it starts with a screen sliding open, a back door left a crack, a pair of light up trainers left like shedding skin on the welcome mat. You don’t know fear until you know the pull. Not a gentle tug, not a…
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Steel on the Sky
We traded moonshots for a crosshair. The Pentagon just cleared the sky, converting orbits into armourso even star-lit dreams can die. No longer curious or boundless, just high ground for a brand-new threat. We drag our earthly paranoia up where the sun has never set. A launch sequence for paranoia, satellites built to strike and…
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Per My last
Another email hits the stack,another knife inside your back.You fake a smile, type “Per my last,”and watch your prime go fading, fast.
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City of New York Directive: No Good Deed Penalty Schedule
City Hall updated the municipal code: Every good deed gets a line-item fine. You breathed the dust to pull out the dead? You’ll pay for it on the instalment line. Twenty-five years of compounding interest on lungs full of glass and pulverised stone. The city takes pride in its braves and its best, then leaves…
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Cellar
The street sweeper uses a broom made of dried lavender,brushing away the heavy shadows of the afternoon.A fox with a brass lantern tied to his tail leads us to the cellar,where jars of preserved starlight line the wooden shelves.We pour two cups of warm dandelion broth,and watch the rain fall upward into the dark.