Tied to This Rock
Here I am tied to this rock, with an eagle pecking out my liver every day.
I brought it on myself.
But my blood is poisoning the river that flows to everyone I love.
Is there any way to be a different me, one who’s blood doesn’t poison?
One who’s bleeding doesn’t contaminate and harm?
I’m searching for a silken pathway back to the safe me
While tied in perpetuity to this rock.
—
The Context of Our Texts
Our taxes pay for textbooks made in Texas.
And Texas is a nexus of anti-science excess.
The architects of science rejects
Create a vortex of false subtext
Any text that comes from Texas stunts a child’s cerebral cortex
And thus our schools will vex us
Until the world exits
This scientific anorexus.
—
I Know I’m Alive
I know I’m alive because the dandelions are more radiant than ever
I know I’m alive because a baby is crying
I know I’m alive because my toe hurts for no discernible reason
I know I’m alive because I know I’m alive
—
I Live in Small Ways
I find life in between bouts of death
I live in small ways
In the shades of the calmly rippling waters
In the disinterested trees
In the air that’s filled with insect life
In the delicate, white flowers
Clustered in a dandelion’s soft yellow haze
I keep being me
In unexpected moments
Breathing in the light
Life sprouting from the cracks of death
A tree stump saturated with living energy
Despite myself, I keep being me
—
For thoughts on the diminishing nature of friendship, click this flower: