Eighteen school shootings so far this year

shall we pray again?
send our thoughts and good wishes
to the seventeen kids who just died at
at the hands of a deranged man, angry,
carrying a semiautomatic weapon.
shall we send condolence cards to the
bereaved parents assuring them that
'they're in a better place" where people
can't carry around killing machines.
I never prayed .
I contacted my congressMAN
he never did anything.
so here we are again.
seventeen dead
many more to come.

Be My Valatine

speaking up

only by speaking up
will evil and hatred be swept away
by warmer winds, those that cradle
but also insist
he is gone now
and we can swing our legs high
with no fear, we can dance under
smiling eyes, he has been swept
away, may he reassemble himself
somewhere and find peace.

staying away

he is a tornado of anger, a wind
of fury that pulls us into its vortex;
blows acid tears into our faces
his is the face of suffering as he
hoots involuntarily, twisting his
neck into impossible shapes, his jaw
cracking as it opens into a black cave
of sharp white teeth and a thickened
tongue, his legs swinging high then
catching my ankles to pull me to the
ground, a shared ground that I
run from, let me stay away.

the joy of walking the dog in the rain

the joy of walking the dog in the rain,

the feel of raindrops on your cheeks

their patter on your jacket

how the sidewalks start to glisten

how when you look up, a huge rainbow

greets you, a double rainbow fills the

sky, rising above the busy traffic 

of our human lives.

napping until it's too late to eat

they all know that I nap
having thrown my head against a rock
and they all know I love to eat,
especially when I don't have to cook
maybe they know I do capoeira after dinner
after I stuff myself with Stephen's home cooked meal
and my stomach bulges out with happiness.
they don't know that I want to throw up
when I throw my first kicks
and I chastise myself for eating so much
before vigorous exercise
I better nap until it's too late
to eat dinner
I'll feel better for it.

in defense of jaywalking

we stand, poised to run, on the curb
watching the cars crawl by, not a single set
of eyes looks towards us to motion us to cross
even though
even though this kind act of 5 seconds delay
would cost them nothing, rejoining the
prison of driving at the next light.
so we stand, poised to run, through
the line of cars, their eyes never
diverting from the bumper of the car
in front.
and we stand, poised to run, knowing
that a cross-walk could be there
but it still isn't, is it.