Taking Back Great
I unravel the faux from every cap
stitch by violent stitch,
drain the lying ink dry
out of its every slanderous use,
scour it from the tongue
of the abuser, churn all this muck
into moonshine with these hands born
of immigrant blood, blood shed.
I take it swift, a warm shot
against the throat, mad fire to the belly.
I revel in the heat, let it sting me
with its bitter and sweet truth,
let it resurrect itself amongst the voices
like a Phoenix
only through the dregs of ruinous ash
rendering such magnificence.
Howl
Septic up to my soul, it’s to the point I don't know
what to howl about first. Police now rhymes
with blood and I howl. School now means murder
and I howl. Airport is a synonym for death.
again I howl ad infinitum. My niece sleeps
between sheets covered in pink flamingos.
She doesn't know a thing about the world
outside herself. Terror to her is the nightlight
gone dark. She screams her displeasure
at having to close her eyes to nap, mad at having
to stop doing nothing and everything. Tucking
her in it's all I can do not to break apart. Upstairs
she dreams a reality I can only dream about
while downstairs I sip wine to no avail. Tonight
a new moon does not rise. Venus reigns the sky solely.
I howl myself to shards, try to swathe her
with every scrap of light that is never enough.
Alternative Facts
No, science did not save my life - twice -
butterflied open to fix my heart, machines did not
become my lungs, accordion breath in and out
before doctors brought my static heart
back to life, no my pulse shall rely solely
on god’s will, according to your alternative facts.
No my mother did not tell me to skip the part
about my surgeries when our family switched
insurance in the ‘90s, no, your alternative facts
told me then, and threatens to tell me again,
that I must live in my flawed body,
with its pre-existing powder keg of a mucked heart,
walk through fire and hope to your god I don't spark.
No, a student did not ask me one week after
the election how possible it would be to finish
the course through email. My family,
he quivers, moving back. No, I did not witness
neighbors loading up their grief
in a metal U Haul that same week,
as they followed dusk into a life
they did not ask for, no, your alternative eyes
did not see them, did they?
no, a transgender teenager did not commit suicide
after your election,
no journalists were not arrested for speaking the truth,
after your election,
no, women do not fear for their lives and rights,
after your election,
no, vets are still getting the assistance they deserve,
after your election,
no, Native Americans do not have to defend their land with blood,
after your election,
no, the rich are not robbing the poor, and sick are not dying
after your election,
no, everything is copacetic after your election,
according to alternative facts.
Taking Back Great
I unravel the faux from every cap
stitch by violent stitch,
drain the lying ink dry
out of its every slanderous use,
scour it from the tongue
of the abuser, churn all this muck
into moonshine with these hands born
of immigrant blood, blood shed.
I take it swift, a warm shot
against the throat, mad fire to the belly.
I revel in the heat, let it sting me
with its bitter and sweet truth,
let it resurrect itself amongst the voices
like a Phoenix
only through the dregs of ruinous ash
rendering such magnificence.
Howl
Septic up to my soul, it’s to the point I don't know
what to howl about first. Police now rhymes
with blood and I howl. School now means murder
and I howl. Airport is a synonym for death.
again I howl ad infinitum. My niece sleeps
between sheets covered in pink flamingos.
She doesn't know a thing about the world
outside herself. Terror to her is the nightlight
gone dark. She screams her displeasure
at having to close her eyes to nap, mad at having
to stop doing nothing and everything. Tucking
her in it's all I can do not to break apart. Upstairs
she dreams a reality I can only dream about
while downstairs I sip wine to no avail. Tonight
a new moon does not rise. Venus reigns the sky solely.
I howl myself to shards, try to swathe her
with every scrap of light that is never enough.
Alternative Facts
No, science did not save my life - twice -
butterflied open to fix my heart, machines did not
become my lungs, accordion breath in and out
before doctors brought my static heart
back to life, no my pulse shall rely solely
on god’s will, according to your alternative facts.
No my mother did not tell me to skip the part
about my surgeries when our family switched
insurance in the ‘90s, no, your alternative facts
told me then, and threatens to tell me again,
that I must live in my flawed body,
with its pre-existing powder keg of a mucked heart,
walk through fire and hope to your god I don't spark.
No, a student did not ask me one week after
the election how possible it would be to finish
the course through email. My family,
he quivers, moving back. No, I did not witness
neighbors loading up their grief
in a metal U Haul that same week,
as they followed dusk into a life
they did not ask for, no, your alternative eyes
did not see them, did they?
no, a transgender teenager did not commit suicide
after your election,
no journalists were not arrested for speaking the truth,
after your election,
no, women do not fear for their lives and rights,
after your election,
no, vets are still getting the assistance they deserve,
after your election,
no, Native Americans do not have to defend their land with blood,
after your election,
no, the rich are not robbing the poor, and sick are not dying
after your election,
no, everything is copacetic after your election,
according to alternative facts.
