tell your father to pull out, tell your mother
to hide. there are children of your children
who exist in an illness of blood,
bone, skin, hair, and lung.
there is a barren landscape–
stone predated ocean,
before the earth was
sick with smoke, plastic.
bacteria teemed on this rock
like an unstoppable infection
that infected power
to make powerless those infected.
(originally published in 45 Poems: for the Revolution, 2019)
in a moscow hotel room
shadow brokers partied
with stolen american
cyberweapons over the
counterintelligence
they wanted public
the americans
drank everything
and partied through
the night
(originally published in Scarlet Leaf Review, Summer 2018)
Easy you observe the brimstone gold
plated on a perch and the gulls above
broadcast O ye airwaves message
static
this white noise raging in the country
someone forgot
the clamor in the background of the FM radio
(originally published in New Pop Lit, Spring 2018)
out of nowhere there’s a razor-thin wire hope
smoke from the top of the mountain and
we small spectators watching those distant trees
burn chatter among ourselves that finally there’s
a chance to reveal the truth about the source of smoke
and to be honest we’re terrified if there isn’t
a fire because we see it and wonder what else
is covered up because it’s there all around us in the air
(originally published in Rabid Oak, Spring 2018)
You have good reason
to be self-confident.
After all, this is what
the fortune cookie said.
After a dinner portion
of greasy lo mein
from New Peking.
After CNN reports
the president’s firing
of the FBI director.
This is a gross abuse of power,
and there is a gross amount
of noodles inside me.
Despite that,
I have good reason
to be self-confident,
I suppose.
I am reasonably certain
I still have a job.
I am reasonably certain
I am not under investigation.
There was no backdoor
deal struck with the restaurant
to ensure this would be
my particular
fortune.
All I did was order
the noodles via telephone.
Then I drove to the
restaurant to pick it up,
face-to-face.
I used my credit card
to pay for it, but
I will pay the bill.
In the plastic bag
they handed me,
there was a brown bag.
In the brown bag,
there was a white box
with my food in it
as well as chopsticks,
napkins, a fork, and
the fortune cookie.
That’s it.
All I’m saying is
if you don’t believe
me, investigate.
Anyone who says
differently
is reasonably suspicious.
(originally published in Landfill, Fall 2017)