Peek-A-Boo

It matters what you say.
It matters what you do

and how you vote, and it
matters when you look

away.  Remember the game
we played as children?  We

covered our faces and closed
our eyes and knew

that we were hidden
from view.  Peek-a-boo.

But here’s the thing,
white men in the dark

suits, your marble hall,
your fleeting fame,

this is not a game,
we see you still, even

as you hide behind
your own hardened masks.

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Flat Planet

Hark the herald angels
sing the red line boldly,
this is not my story.
This is not our story.

He’ll tell you that the planet’s flat,
negligent explorer,
pockets lined with glory
trumpeting his glory,

full steam shipping down the line
toward the edge of reason,
he’s always keeping score, we
the people, brace for war,

lost for words but not conviction
when nothing left is sacred,
march right or you be wary,
things just might get scary,

so trade this fear for action,
and batten down the hatches,
lean against the oar,
let’s make love the allegory,
make love the allegory.

Bully

Broken system,
Fox-newsed
high glossed –
we let you
throw your words
like hand grenades.
I want to cover
the ears of my children.
You make it ok
for others to be bullies, too.
Obstruction of justice,
due process cock blocking,
Supreme Court circus
pummeled by playground vitriol –
what is happening?
Enough.
Already enough
violence and pain,
hunger and suffering
for one thousand lifetimes.
If this were an elementary school,
the classroom psychologist
would have been called in
last semester.
Your hate,
an aberration,
a toxic symptom
of a broken world.
So we will keep on loving,
the only antivenin,
and hope that somehow
it will stop the bite
before the poison
spreads too far.