Returns

 Returns 

drills pump oil sucked out of the ground 

refined in Alabama from the Persian Gulf 

plastic to China sold to America 

red shipping container and a see-through box 

sold me at midnight in my lonely life 

played it twice it don’t turn on my mind 

customer care in Philippines girl from slums with a dream 

one day run a department right out of poverty 

help me with a label wants to make sure 

I’m taken care of sincerely sure

get on a bus that goes to the train 

get off on the stop at Eighty-Sixth Street 

take an elevator to a hidden mezzanine 

wait in line behind instagram queens 

return that plastic disc smile from the chick 

twenty dollars an hour scanning the phone on my wrist 

happy knowing it’s going to a drop-off point 

buried again in the ground from whence it came 

I feel a sense of return 

mama natureza one day reclaiming the earth

The Idealist

don’t call me 

a martyr 

I work off 

the clock

  

not that 

holy 

I fight myself 

to a draw 

and if I could just 

forget 

close my eyes 

to the rest 

I wouldn’t get 

so upset 

I might 

even relax 

tried 

meditation 

couldn’t get 

there 

too much 

information 

the evil 

is real 

stuck 

in this situation 

I made it 

myself  

when I smell 

something burning 

I just 

have to check 

you’re 

a realist 

you sleep 

with anyone 

Idealists 

count mistakes 

no one 

else counts

My Anomoia

 my anemoia 

I forget everything I read 

it filters back as feeling 

maybe I’m doing 

the right thing 

I don’t get nostalgic 

I’m not coming back 

it was bad enough once, 

just embarrassing  

I just miss what 

I never had 

with a sweetness 

a sunset 

I miss what 

I always felt 

my life should be 

like I wrote it myself

there are your 

pulsing questions 

random stars 

in the dark 

I pretend to focus 

sending telepathic 

messages 

decoded at once

Getting & Forgetting

I find you in others 

your name scrawled in markers 

just when I think I’ve discovered 

something rare, you’re there 

it goes beyond coincidence 

it’s persistent I could easily 

mistake something random 

for planned, and you appear 

I re-spread the covers 

protecting myself from goblins 

meanwhile windmills of my mind 

are propelled by your air 

it’d be cheaper to surrender 

I could save on calendars 

not needing to remember 

important dates, disappeared 

School of Life Detention

 School of Life Detention

Sometimes you 

think you’re done 

when you’re not 

fault lines emerge from the plot 

other times it’s over 

before it’s begun 

rhymes can’t fire 

it’s no one else’s fault 

silver lining’s 

there in the sky

dancing around

its own outlines 

from a distance 

things make more sense 

reversals and tragedies 

embroidered in the silk 

silver haired children 

battle switching sides 

moving bodies 

like cattle in a drive 

to feel that joy 

one more time 

in the school 

of just being of alive 

Let’s Raise Prices

don’t you think 

you’re worth it 

don’t you see 

what a t-shirt costs 

people will think 

you’re stupid

poor quality 

if you try to be reasonable 

just look out 

upon the world 

look into the mirror 

and say, 

“five hundred dollars” 

and

“seven hundred 

with your choice of sides” 

Maybes

give me a “maybe” 

I don’t expect anything else 

in these times of uncertainty 

nothing’s a safe bet 

until you know me 

take it on faith 

everything I appear to be 

is an incomplete take 

and a maybe 

ain’t less that I’d expect 

“strategize boldly; implement cautiously” 

that’s how I live 

eight billion others 

sisters and brothers 

all waiting to discover 

their own story 

I don’t need a thousand

or an even dozen

to keep all this love 

moving around me

sometimes I feel crazy 

like there are no friends left

and all is a struggle for money 

all is theft 

then I get to dreaming 

planning and scheming 

and reality is a maybe 

I’ve just left