i really don’t care, do you?

i really don’t care, do you?

in this post roseanne world look to the conners
dr huxtable was assassinated by bill
and every single male is an incel
and there is a swelling tide of #metoo
or is that the tip of an iceberg?
are we seeing toxic masculinity as the titanic finally?
seems kind of inevitable

i really don’t care, do you?

your life doesn’t pass the bechdel test
old white men carve up the territory
all men are born equal
and then we get their boxes ready for them
you disappear and you reappear
and your life makes little sense from the outside
people talk reductively about you
because they wonder what kind of mirror you are

i really don’t care, do you?

this morning you will be crafting a speech
using bible quotes to justify punishing children
and imprisoning children
you may liberally sprinkle with blame for the democrats
the ration of compassion was used up
on crooked lawyers people living in feckless country
how far can you go before your base wobbles?
how far can you go before your face slips?
how far can you go before it all topples?
a face of amber alert and pouting lips

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when again i am

i’m selling
like pistachios shelling
the things i am smelling
it’s poker telling

i’m calling
freestyle falling
a folded up tall thing
in moments a small thing

i forget where i am
when i forget what i am
not knowing when i am
but seeing when again i am

monied relationship

some places i don’ like to shop
i remember standing, counting out change
for low dollar items
bad food to get through
i moved away from that

at college i almost starved
because i mismanaged money
and had none at points
and studying in london was the same
knowing i would increase debt by my actions

to have money isn’t a sin
though some cling to that idea
having identified a root of evil
but i want to grow a money tree
just so i am never broke

the man from macedonia

it shames that i can’t place the place
despite the itch at the back of my mind
i offer up hannibal but mean alexander the great
and you add in mother theresa
for a small place it has a good record

and it has the largest lake in europe
and the deepest
and the most beautiful
you know, because you have dived there

north of greece
you speak macedonian
i promise i will read up on it for next time
best food, i should visit
you’ve been here six months
your car is two months old
you are a new american
and me, ten years here, and wondering

just a little heat exhaustion

who would have guessed heat exhaustion
as the conclusion to the day?
sat there nodding off
as cold as i have ever felt
in florida heat
the blood drains from the face
the stomach swirls and clenches
trying to pick the least gross toilet
to empty myself into
i reach, i retch
and the violence tugs in my perineum
i know i need gentle movement
but the roads here dance around
and my stomach leaves me
before the truck door can open
jacket, shirt, trousers, drenched
and that horrible stench
that promises more
sat on the floor hugging the toilet

this home is about pets

this home is about pets
three cats, two turtles
and attendant parasite life

bartleby carries my world on her back
and i didn’t know she was a girl
until i was taught about her nails

gandalf is the keeper of the secret fire
our first fur baby
who came to us to flee a house of dogs

tootsie is a cat with a foot fetish
doesn’t like to be picked up
but falls in love on the floor amidst shoes

pratchett dances for a finger waggle
named for the writer
who built a world atop a turtle shell

miracle was born feral in a fireplace
whispered to in russian
she climbs highest and fights most furious

i have been burned for these pedestrian observations
but they are the source of magic
cures for the esoteric blindness