One Nation, Deconstructed

under a power structure

founded upon

prone bodies

supple curves

grappled into place

their place

the walls stand

with their stony



the power brokers

believed us broken

faulty bedrock

in the bottom line

as they gave us

the shaft

they laid the groundwork

of their own undoing

as they fondled

nuts and bolts.

we weary

of eating their dust

in the grimy substratum

so we rise

from our knees

spitting out truth

with their limp dipsticks

dislodge ourselves

from musty corners


buildings rumble


the system









Carp and the Fishwife

I have carpe diemed

until all the carp

are washed up

on the shore

gasping fishwifery

roughness bristling


between whistling whiskers

and all I’ve seized

slips termagant and scaly

from grasping idolatry.

I have spawned upriver

up the falls

beyond grandmother’s house

my scales shimmering

rusted rainbow glimmering


in the faltering

rays of the day

until all I am left with

are mottled fish kisses

flaking incrustations

and the film of rotting chum

scummy skinned

upon my teeth



I have stripped

languorous and playful

pirouetted inexpert

with bra-toss flourish

inside inviolable cocoon

of lover’s gaze


I have been stripped

icy delousing showered

quaking and shaking

silenced in shivering

submission, backlit

beneath baleful stares


I have sauntered

in my altogether

sipping coffee

of a lazy morn

desultorily conversant

secure in my abode


I have endured

humiliation de rigueur

squat and cough

correctional convention

senses and sensibilities

brusquely manacled


I am armored


in the smelted iron


of all my


cloaked animalistic

in fervor


Authoring Angles

you should write a book

they tell me

various perusers

of my life’s

recent chapters.

ever at internal skirmish

diffident plaid skirted


raises head and eyebrows

in self-effacing surprise

shrouding wonderment

beneath a shrug

and a vague maybe someday

while dauntless

badass bitch

square of shoulder

and peg, ill-fitting

of normative round holes

gazes direct

between hard-earned

crows’ feet

barely biting back

damn straight

and everyone

should read it.



I consider

each source

evaluate motivation

feel out

hidden angles

compile subtitles

to my unwritten



not for voyeuristic consumption

I am NOT an object lesson


dare the world


with open eyes

Poison Penned

Whisper and the Roar

I’ve been sipping hemlock

in my coffee

it dripped off

your eyelashes

in disdainful


with each unnerving sip

collapsing breaths

ask what would happen

if you looked at me?

Would the razors

in your eyes

slice my shrinking soul?

Would you see, perchance,

me, no demonic priestess

you have burned in effigy?

I munch arsenic

on my popcorn

it was sprinkled

from the blast

of your hushed


in the nauseating crunch

twisted innards

wonder at the fallout

if you listened to me?

Would my words

rebound against deaf ears

forever silence me?

Would you hear, ever,

hard complicated truths,

not censure and controversy?

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Tribulation Triangle

I am parked in this park

off-road and overridden

under the hazy cumulus

windswept culmination

of my derailed destination.

my off-ramp missed

draped in willowy snakeheads

hissing fiery condemnation

spitting biblical acid

between my eyes,

upon my soul.

jalopy jacked

and history heisted

I scramble among the joists

of the drunken calliope


maniacal nursery rhymes

sing-along sung

by we misfit toys.


decontextualize the context

strip the curves

and flatten the convex

meanings from my torment.

misread my intentions

brand my art graffiti


on your whitewashed


stamp “defective”

on my existence

while I sweat, laborious

laying the rough-hewn pavers

deconstructing history

reconstructing mystery

step by dusty step

  • follow me!


  • do you dare follow?

our red brick road


proud flag-bearers

of the moral majority

hanging on tensile strength

of dubious

self-assigned superiority

curb stomp

the different

those who march

to off-key drum beats.

meanwhile, those of

corrupted meliority

diddle young girls

(they say it’s the cat with the fiddle)

under the purview

of their reeking



now who jumps

over the moon?




Head Winds

winds of change blew arctic

stultifying waxing moons

forward motion frozen

afore Siberian gusts

existence benumbed

impatient glaciating

seeds of survival



debugged, deloused


no germ

she germinates

tenacious tendrils


poke purslane pink


into time and tempest


when mother Gaia

can swallow no more

spilled blood from offspring

of her ravaged womb

and the hail

of bullets

riddles consciousness

until we are inured

to horror

while Big Pharma

and the NRA

slurp the gore

calamity as morning coffee

tooth their gold

and pocket our futures

her grief breaches

banks of comprehension

heavens torrent

flood commences