Several times a day the same play features in the recesses of a collective mind while shying away from the intended message: “Stop the carnage! Stop the carnage! Stop the carnage!” Psychobabble in the audio world where roadside preachers yell out random truths to the suspecting mob. They know, they know, of course they all…

They tripped over that strange opaque place Lunged, twisted, and nearly fell on their face Gained ground on a rebound and then Fled from the potential site of their fall from grace This is the pattern repeated often, Never explained but should not be forgotten Not by those who witness the chasm Between the have’s…

I’d wake up at night wondering if The mildness brewing would turn into a fight Never asking if he could dump his Insecurity, his anxiety, his inability into you His semen and demons would wash away your purity Your intensity, your decency Baby faced you’d turn to me, wide eyed and frozen When he’d spread…