We are standing on a balcony
between mountains,
pointing to a scrim of houses
and acres of wild-
fenced,
so far off
we say distance,
We are standing on a balcony
between mountains,
pointing to a scrim of houses
and acres of wild-
fenced,
so far off
we say distance,
I have gone astray,
thinking,
rambling
in an esoteric phrase,
lying to the government
about a loaded gun
between my legs.
…because I have seen,
and seen the remnants of,
a fellow at a urinal
raise his arm
i can feel your populism from here
in the cool confines of the passenger seat
your window is up too
we both got the a/c blasting, bro
because they sure make america hot these days
caliente or kalinatuh i’d say, much to your chagrin
everywhere i turn
the orange-faced bloviating billionaire
with bad hair and a small penis
tells me that he wants to make america great again
for its dying minority
The end of the dream will be bright
golden angels descending in columns
through a black sky in the industrial night,
transforming into airplanes approaching for landing,
I look out over the harbor
at that statue you know the one
that worn-out, weathered statue of liberty
with nothing to say. She just stands
there like a statue with nothing to say.
Nothing.
in his d.c. office cum apartment
three miller lights into it
spit shinning his portrait of reagan for the third time
making the sign of the cross
a chunk of wisconsin cheese in his hand
after a hard day of obstructive legislative work
your voice dense with your son
who fell into a well, the words
becoming moth prints, becoming
that near-bone sky, the blue ache
of the sky, seen from there,
a kind of window.
No one will ever know what it is
to be extinguished.
Love is fleeting
and may never withstand
the test of time.