Completeness
squirrel on the lawn
crow on the wire
(there’s a little piece
of my soul in you)
crow on the wire
squirrel on the lawn
(and a piece
of yours in me)
/ / /
31 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
Category: My poems
I Wrote This For You
I wrote this for you
on the back of a napkin
passed over the bar
with a glass of soda.
I wrote this for you
on an app on my phone,
lying on the couch
during a long lunch break.
I wrote this for you but
it doesn’t matter because
you’ll never know you’re
the “you” in question.
I wrote this for you
to send it to the universe;
like background radiation
for a world in need of love.
/ / /
26 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
they leave us
nothing but our bones
stamped into the mud
/ / /
25 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
her back hurts
from lying on the ground
shred of clothing on the breeze
/ / /
21 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
For Bisan
Leave a Commentreporter / rocket / running
/ / /
20 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
even if you squeeze
your eyes shut:
cries from the rubble
/ / /
19 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
in Khan Younis a boy
holds an empty soup pot
no more haiku
/ / /
18 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
Meanwhile
“our colleagues are being killed
at the bedside of our patients”
meanwhile:
a toddler cannot stop shaking
as an aid worker
or maybe just a random civilian
gently strokes the side of her face
meanwhile:
an IDF soldier holds a machine gun
above a line of naked men
their hands tied behind their backs
their clothes in a pile in the street
meanwhile:
his head drooping, beard filled with ash,
the man in the PRESS vest wonders
how much longer he can possibly continue
meanwhile:
a car pulls over to the side of the road
two women in hijab hand a tray of
blueberry muffins out the window
to a lone protester
they wave and drive on
/ / /
7 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
Virginia/Gaza
We move boxes and couches, beds and lamps.
We pause to eat pizza and drink lemonade.
The kids help or play or get tired.
As we near the end there are gunshots
in the nearby woods. Hunters, or target practice.
The next-to-the-youngest one
asks if they’re fireworks.
We all say yes.
*
They move with nothing, to nowhere.
They keep their hands raised as they walk
but the soldiers shoot anyway.
There is gunfire everywhere.
There are explosions everywhere.
Flares set fire to the night
so the soldiers can keep shooting.
The next-to-the-youngest one
digs her baby brother out of the rubble.
/ / /
2 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
The Stages Of Watering A Dead Plant
The first step is to not admit defeat.
Even as green turns to brown
and the leaves curl inward,
you must cling to delusion.
The soil will accept the water,
at least for a while.
It will join you in looking away
as you fill half a teacup at the kitchen sink
and upend it into the pot.
After a few days, though, the embarrassed soil
will release its burden onto the dish below.
This is the crucial moment,
as you dutifully carry the dish back to the sink,
then open the curtains
to bathe the corpse in light.
/ / /
25 November 2023
Charlottesville VA
Palestine Corner
One is a beekeeper.
One is barefoot.
One is from the Bay Area.
One is Kuwaiti.
One is a daycare worker.
One is from Iraq.
One is a boxer.
One is a nurse.
One is a newbie.
One is an old head.
One is a singer.
One is a guitarist.
One is trans.
One is bi.
One is a dad.
One is a mom.
One brings coffee.
One brings honey.
Cold mornings.
Rainy mornings.
They hold signs.
The cars pass.
/ / /
22 November 2023
Charlottesville VA
Vigil
We stand on the street corner
because we can’t turn our
bodies into shields.
We stand on the street corner
to force other people to look.
We stand on the street corner
clutching our paper signs
and our cardboard signs,
looking into the eyes
of the passing drivers,
hoping for recognition.
We stand on the street corner
with our fathers and our daughters,
with friends and strangers.
We stand on the street corner
for those whose streets run red
with blood and fire.
We stand on the street corner,
praying to awaken
from our collective nightmare,
to discover it was all a dream,
that we are safe in the arms of loved ones,
that all we hear are birds
and the laughter of children.
/ / /
7 November 2023
Charlottesville VA
Everybody Thinks It’s True
If things were different,
if things were how I wanted them to be,
you’d have been the first one I told.
You could have celebrated with me,
given me some pointers,
loved all of me. Instead,
I’m sitting on the porch in the twilight
listening to Paul Simon sing
“Train In The Distance.”
In ten days I’ll be in Tucson.
Are you still there?
Are you there?
Are you?
/ / /
5 November 2023
Charlottesville VA
Inconvenient
I was telling the truth
when I said
I would love you forever.
/ / /
15 October 2023
Charlottesville VA
Let
The dog is sleeping near the fireplace.
He’s been sleeping there for years.
A long time, really, for a dog.
He’s not dead. I checked.
He was just … overwhelmed?
It was all getting to be too much.
One day he nuzzled up against me
while I was sitting on the couch, reading.
I gave his head a pat and watched him
pad across the room to the braided rug.
He circled a few times, like he always does,
then settled in, paws crossed.
That was three, maybe four years ago.
I still use the living room, but I try to keep quiet.
No loud music, no sharp noises.
I fill his water bowl and food bowl every day.
Just in case.
/ / /
10 October 2023
Charlottesville VA