03 February 2022

Father Knows Best

Shouting frantic hyperbole 

over some non-existent attack 

on the right to bear arms, 

while what you truly came for 

was the right to their womb 


The thief in the night, 

the snake oil salesman, 

the father who still thinks 

he knows best 


Sixty-seven years later, 

the television sitcom, 

still the perfect title 

for the poison of patriarchy 


Father Knows Best, 

you've always convinced yourself, 

as you reminisce of the days 

when your TV screen was 

black & (heavy on the) white

 

Father Knows Best, 

how to run your segregated 

nineteen fifties life, 

your quaint little home, 

closet doors kept tightly shut 


Father Knows Best 

how to sit in his easy chair, 

newspaper in hand, 

and demand obedience 


Twenty-years before 

Jane Roe's left hook 

sent Henry Wade 

and all of Dallas County 

to the mat 


When you came to, 

you were bruised and scarred 

from the knockout blow, 

the court having the audacity 

to tell you someone's uterus 

did not belong to you, 


You’ve been plotting 

your revenge ever since 


Father Knows Best, 

you still declare, 

even decades into 

the 21st century 


Father Knows Best 

about fallopian tubes 

he does not have, 

about a clitoris 

he never even bothers 

to find 


Father Knows Best, 

as you continue to glorify 

the father of your country, 

who thought he could own 

and control the entire bodies 

of hundreds of humans 


Father Knows Best, 

The father of your party 

grabbed 'em by the pussy 

and you decided you had 

the right to do the same 


Father Knows Best, 

say four thousand three hundred 

ninety-two Catholic Priests 

I guess fathers still can't 

keep their hands to themselves 


24 Oct 2021





19 November 2021

How Lucky We Didn't Kill You

Twenty million Hoosier birds

will fall to our bloody hands

in the course of the year,

but we'll praise ourselves

for the "two" we spare


Pointless political pageantry

where our blood-thirsty "saviors"

will still fully savor the flesh

of finely roasted death


But we'll call them lucky,

the two whose necks

we didn't place

beneath our ax


Lucky

it wasn't your blood

we drained


Lucky

it wasn't your anal cavaties

we stuffed with bread


Lucky

for our endless kindness


Lucky 

we bothered to give you a name


Lucky

we pardoned you

from your countless

turkey crimes

31 January 2021

Moments of McCann: A Found Poem

 

Family is like water,

the original stream

 

The bottom bunk again,

his slumber verses

 

A grace and a toughness,

the safe border between

 

The fires of the Bronx,

sunlight through the girders

 

Recklessness and temptation

written on the ceiling

 

A colossal illusion,

sawdust on the floor

 

Some sort of revolutionary act,

a motherfucking ambulance chaser

 

 

 

-Found Poem

All lines are direct quotes from pages 57-59 of Colum McCann’s Let the Great World Spin


22 Jan 2021

 

30 January 2021

An Unread Note to Self

 

Look at us dancing

with gleeful abandon

as the tape

of your childhood

plays

 

Your dance unreserved,

no matter who 

was watching

 

We were partners,

companions

 

Now you step 

in front of a mirror

and you no longer see me

 

You only see flaws,

imperfections,

never beauty

 

The mirror never 

bringing a smile

 

The world told you

you didn’t deserve me,

you couldn’t have me

 

That self-confidence

was only for others

 

That whatever you were,

it wasn’t enough

 

The echoes still 

play in your mind

every time you

tamper your joy

 

You shouldn’t dance,

you’re embarrassing

 

You can’t sing,

just mouth the words

 

Save the world 

from your shame,

your inadequacy

 

But I remember

when we danced



25 Jan 2021







28 January 2021

Ten Things I Remember About January 28, 1986


1. I didn't yet know hope could just explode, without a warning sing


2. But I knew Julie Paolano was the cutest girl in school

 

3. I wasn’t in school that day

 

4. I was home with my grandmother watching a television with the screen built into its wooden stand

 

5. The flash lit the screen

 

6. I was naïve enough that even when the rocket burst into flames in front of my eyes, I believed it was only a test run, because it couldn’t have happened if people were on board

 

7. My grandmother had to tell me I was wrong

 

8. My illusion was not the only thing that shattered that day

 

9. My grandmother lasted eleven more years than the Challenger, but her demise held warning signs I had since learned to recognize

 

10. The warning signs failed to make the loss any easier



28 Jan 2021





 

26 January 2021

All Theft Matters

 

I want to point out to the Stop the Steal folks that someone stole my backpack when I was in college and I think it is really insensitive to try to highlight one theft while not acknowledging all theft. Why single your theft out, like my theft didn’t matter? So maybe your sign should read Stop Stealing or something so I don’t feel left out.

 

#AllTheftMatters

Tricked, Without a Treat

 

Your political sign,

the horrifying 

Halloween ornament

still decorating

your lawn, 

 

even as the calendar

continues its

repetitive cycle 

into the holiday

of colonization,

 

lingers obliviously,

like a child in

November hoping

his Trick-or-Treat bag 

 

would now

suddenly and 

miraculously refill

 

 

26 November 2020





25 November 2020

No Sweetness in Your Sweetbread


There is no sweetness

in your sweetbread,

kindness was not

 

on the menu 

 

Truth’s restraining order

already filed by advertising

 

Designed to keep 

us in the dark,

the very way

 

we keep our victims

 

...Happily in compliance,

we draw smiles on the faces

of those whose milk...

 

and babies…

 

we stole

 

So our cartons sell,

so our bellies fill

with the delicious taste

of self-deception

 

The Laughing Cow

brand spreadables

because having your 

babies killed

 

is hilarious

 

28 October 2020

Continuity Flaws

"Villainy wears many masks, none so dangerous as the mask of virtue."

-Ichabod Crane, in the 1999 film, Sleepy Hollow


America bursts

out of our elementary 

school books

 

with glorious fanfare,

fife and drum,

flag waving in the air,

 

looking dapper

in a red bow tie,

tails and top hat

 

or dressed for battle;

red boots, red gloves,

indestructible circular shield

 

either way,

making sure to highlight 

those broad stripes 

and bright stars

 

Stand, we are told,

hand proudly over heart,

pledging blind allegiance

 

to the virtuous defender

of this land of the free,

this home of the brave,

 

the amber waves of grain,

the open arms for

the tempest-tossed,

 

the country, we are told,

God shed his grace upon

 

Self-proclaimed hero 

of our own story-book,

regurgitated repeatedly 

into school children’s

unquestioning ears

 

grooming good little patriots

 

But with closer inspection,

with the benefit of time,

we came to see the blood

dripping from the shield,

 

the stolen land 

beneath our feet

 

We learned that what we 

“shared with the Indians,”

despite parading our 

paper pilgrim hats in the hallway,

was smallpox and

the bullet end of a rifle

 

Our Captain, America,

was trading slaves

and sewing white hoods

 

always in the way of progress,

always protecting the patriarchy

 

Preemptive attacks,

misplaced retaliation,

oil wars and arms deals,

 

for-profit prisons,

children in cages,

the tempest-tossed

tossed away

 

Our claim to be 

the hero of the story

started to conflict 

with the body count

 

Liberty and justice for all, 

but hollow words on a page,

still waiting to be realized

 

America, the super hero,

revealed to be just another

comic book fantasy


with continuity flaws

 

 

 4 Oct 2020




Idea for the poem suggested by Brett Voina

24 October 2020

Views Above and Below


Peaceful,

sitting 

 

                                Peaceful, 

                                swimming

 

        water rippling,

        bobber bobbing

 

hook 

baited

 

                                hook 

                                piercing

 

        the pull of the line

 

                                brings 

                                panic

 

brings

smiles

 

                                brings

                                suffocation



24 Oct 2020

22 October 2020

Excerpts of Erdrich

 

The beautiful and brutal tapestry of contradictions,

the strong, resinous scent of burning pine pitch,

a state of ecstasy almost tangible,

a poignant sense of peacefulness

off the tips of the leaves,

low demonic growls,

eyes staring through the roof,

the defenseless dead

 



Found poem. All lines are direct quotes from pages 337 and 338 of Louise Erdrich’s novel, The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse


22 Oct 2020

 

The Question on Everyone’s Mind

 

Mr. President, a question

I’d like to pursue,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

Every time your mouth opens

the words are untrue,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

At the victims of a hurricane,

paper towels you threw,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

Seventy thousand dollars 

for the hairstyle of a cockatoo?

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

Twenty-six sexual allegations,

you claim all are untrue,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

While “grab ‘em by the pussy”

is what you do,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

On Hurricane Dorian’s map,

with a sharpie you drew,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

“In my great and unmatched wisdom”

your mouth did spew,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

Racial diversity training 

you try to subdue,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

You mocked the disabled,

so I ask anew,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

Windmill noise causes cancer,

Believe me, it’s true,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

If she wasn’t my daughter,

we’d probably screw,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

Liberate Michigan!

Let the violence ensue,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

Rake your forests

to keep fires from coming through,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

Bleach injections

will make you feel brand new,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

Stand by, Proud Boys,

wait for my cue,

What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

The only question 

I have hitherto 

is What the fuck

is wrong with you??

 

I hope we can scrape

from the office the residue 

of whatever the fuck

was wrong with you



16 Oct 2020