You put away childish things and swallowed your creativity when you came of age. You forgot that you were more than just another person. You took a razor to the reality of your difference and decided that to fit in you would become another member of a society that didn’t approve of you. And then, on top of it all, you stopped dreaming and that’s when your life ended.

Sure, you still live and breathe and drink and entertain yourself horizontally but your life, it ended when you were a child. Do you want to laugh and smile again without the need for social lubricant and self-deprecation?

Poetry isn’t an expression of someone else’s truth. It’s an invitation to look in the mirror, not at your lipstick or even at the particular brand of stiletto feminism you’ve imagined will save you from the lust of each male you encounter today. It’s a personally-addressed question to give yourself permission in this moment, this place, this state of self to stop being acceptable and start being happy.

You want to smile, don’t you?

From the book…

light escapes

sunrays create shadows
beneath peaks of interest
brightness overwhelms
moments of inadequacy

equality crushed by geologic plates
movement unseen
density shifted
underfoot thoughts collapse
within quakes of conscience
faults’ cracks appearing
no longer between convenient footpath stones

disintegrate soul components
few become many
now myriad
sparks’ gathering remains possible
only moments longer
flourishing improbable
survival the new goal
one is not

cohesion requires black holes of integrity
horizons’ fears
attract moments of clarity
light escapes
leaves not darkness
only absence


dear muse
do not simply inspire thought

compel digits
to caress loving sculptures
from the merest touch

reform pixels
in the image of spoken beauty

tear hate from synapse
and build it
in memory of unuttered lies

become me
in flickered half-awareness
beneath covers

clothe passive voices
with newly sacred icons

let active thought
be derived
within first reading’s meetup
between fingertips’ scrolling
and eyes’ briefest escape

from notifications
drawing me to worship
their immediacies’ deities

compose in me
lyrics beyond communication

instantiate newly objectified realities
from my fingers
existing solely
between optic nerve
and memory’s delay

stimulate belief
in unknowable misconceptions

stand me between words
held with each finger’s brief lingering

make me desire
no ancient papers

deliver me
from arcane quill shadows

find home
within imagined circumstances

letters existing without ink
syllables conducting
liberated dances on palms

inside voices

cardboard and magic markers
scream silenced slogans
beneath overhanging deprecations’
harsh consonants

to unsung antiheroes’ ears

change is fear
made incarnate in eyes
trapped within bodies
of hatred
fleeing before onrushing
foreign thoughts

an ethic of lust

swallow depths
of unbreathable lacrymal stimulants
surrounded by compatriots
without unreflective homelands’ biases

not thinking
is today’s only existence

who listens not
to mass hysteria
but oppressed voices
singing through ash-blackened veils
on street corners

assumed to be members
of ancient professions
whose only penetrations
are unspoken protests
of violations long past
yet unforgettable

no longer makes you free