Why Yes

is this the way things are or just a
mood perhaps a virus or depression
over the political and social fiasco
my beautiful country losing its soul

or am I happy why yes I think I am
though old and older as the symptoms
multiply the bloodblister spots on arms
disintegrating skin on precious fingers

this is the way things are and I can
think about it how I like but not escape
time nipping my heels while I dance
at my own funeral laughing in triumph

The Worst

resist dread
the worst will happen
await it with an easy heart

Mine to Tell

similarly my life appears green
unsimilarly never to regenerate
the story is mine to tell however
I choose to distort the bare truth
not a concept but brute biology
in a ruthlessy capitalist setting
lived in the cracks of complexity
buffered by the luck of privilege
adjusting details to suit myself
no one else positioned to be me

Who Comes

say whether you have anything to say
or dare to be quiet let others have the
floor until form enables signification

insight hides in the wilting flowers as
summer destroys spring only waiting
to see who comes what can be saved

neither parent has the answer in the
end you make your own way back to
ancestral destiny acting the old story