House of Stone

Your plot wrought
with removal, you strip
down the holy
with soulless measures,
measured in cheap changes
less assessed
than the weight of gold,
objects objectified,
lawless laws,
you claim just cause
to shield your flaws.
Our bodies were built
for the erotic,
ripe fire of sorrow and light,
limbs carved by lust,
by loss, by life.

From these blessed depths,
your soul
erupted like a sting,
wrath of vacuous uncertainty,
you reduce this sacred
house of embers
to cold stone,
stone cold, alone
you build a house of sticks
to hold us in,
your broken words
and vicious gaze,
eyes, violent
in their vacant haze,
you are lazy,
crazy,
for we have known love,
our bodies were made for it,
the way we move
or don’t move,
an act of freedom,
and do you feel
the passing brush of liberation
while you sit
with your broken mirrors
in a crowded room
and build your wall
from the granite
she gave you?

My children know the word grope,
make jokes
about men who use
their daughters
who are mothers.
We are mothers
and daughters,
and we expect more
from our fathers,
red tie nooses your head
to your heart like a balloon,
it might float away.
May your discord
be our kindling.

No bully words
will ever carve
like this heart.
Our house is made of marble,
lit by our lips
and our service,
all things beating now.
Wings rise like a tide,
you’ll be tattered
in the gale we make,
you shake,
somewhere deep inside
you watch the stone,
though you may not know it,
as freedom cracks
the limestone coffin.
This drumbeat comes from the earth,
your words, slippery fish,
will swim away like shadows,
away like cold hands
on an electric body,
feverish
with a passion
you tried to wet
like a wick,
now the bright candle
in a dark room,
ignited.

This is the House That Trump Built

This is the house that Trump built.
These are the lies that lay in the house that Trump built.
This is Steve Bannon who made up the lies
that lay in the house that Trump built.

This is Sean Spicer who backed up Steve Bannon
who made up the lies that lay in the house that Trump built.
This is K. Conway who fed Sean Spicer
who backed up Steve Bannon who made up the lies
that lay in the house that Trump built.

This is Trump Jr., the Donald’s first born,
who schemed with K. Conway who fed Sean Spicer
who backed up Steve Bannon who made up the lies
that lay in the house that Trump built.

This is Scott Pruitt, recently sworn,
who emailed Trump Jr., the Donald’s first born,
who schemed with K. Conway who fed Sean Spicer
who backed up Steve Bannon who made up the lies
that lay in the house that Trump built.

This is the planet that wakes up each morn
that fears Scott Pruitt, recently sworn,
who emailed Trump Jr., the Donald’s first born,
who schemed with K. Conway who fed Sean Spicer
who backed up Steve Bannon who made up the lies
that lay in the house that Trump built.

These are the scientists, blowing the horn,
that care for the planet that wakes up each morn
that fears Scott Pruitt, recently sworn,
who emailed Trump Jr., the Donald’s first born
who schemed with K. Conway who fed Sean Spicer
who backed up Steve Bannon who made up the lies
that lay in the house that Trump built.

These are the immigrants, and we are all one,
including the scientists, blowing the horn,
that care for the planet that wakes up each morn
that fears Scott Pruitt, recently sworn,
who emailed Trump Jr., the Donald’s first born
who schemed with K. Conway who fed Sean Spicer
who backed up Steve Bannon who made up the lies
that lay in the house that Trump built.

We are the people, our hearts being torn
by the unconscious actions of those we have sworn
who torment the immigrants, and we are all one,
including the scientists, blowing the horn,
that care for the planet that wakes up each morn
that fears Scott Pruitt, recently sworn,
who emailed Trump Jr., the Donald’s first born
who schemed with K. Conway who fed Sean Spicer
who backed up Steve Bannon who made up the lies
that lay in the house that Trump built.

The Mother

And so I call my mother
to thank her for
the strength

she gave to me, and also
perhaps especially,
for the joy, because this life

is just a small opening,
a momentary window,
and though

there are shadows
in the dark,
she gave me my hands,

with which to draw back
the curtains
and open eyes to see

the white snow fall
even as this night sky
lights up with morning.