Poems

Seventeen Years Seventeen years is long enough to knowwhat her silence sounds like at different temperatures,long enough to know the joke she’ll makebefore the setup’s finished, long enoughto have a shorthand for the things we’ve been throughthat only works between us, coded intoa look or a word or nothing at all —a raised eyebrow across […]

Show Up and Earn It Show up and earn it, that was all the advice he gave,Show up and earn it, those were the words he took to his grave,He was not a complicated man with complicated theories of success,He believed the showing up was ninety percent of the rest. Show up and earn it,

Say It Louder She said tell me what you are doing while you are doing it,I said I am three fingers deep and you are dripping on my wrist,She shivered and said more, give me the details wet and raw,I said I can feel you clenching every time I curl and draw. My thumb across

Seizing the Moment The moment does not wait, it offers itself and passes,it does not linger at the door through second-pass analyses,I have watched men calculate the risk while the moment evaporatedand stood in the resulting loss that their caution had created. Seizing the moment is a reflex built from preparation,the man who hesitates has

Rebellion In a land where freedom’s chained, where voices silenced, hope disdained,a spark ignites in hearts oppressed, a flame that won’t be put to rest. A young girl stands with fire in eyes, her voice a beacon against the lies,she rallies hearts with every word, a rising tide that can’t be deterred. The tyrant’s grasp

San’s Temper Inhale deep,steel my nerves,nothing morethan you deserve. Adrenalineburns my veins,strugglingto stay sane. Hold the rage,keep it back,resist the urge,stifle the attack. Burning thoughtsfill my head,blind my eyes,seeing red. Blood boils,it just won’t quit.

Quiet Anger The quiet anger is the most precise kind I know,the quiet anger is the temperature that stays belowthe audible and the visible and the recognizable form,and quiet anger is the fury in the eye of the storm. I have been the quiet anger for as long as I have been,the quiet anger is

Rationing We rationed the hope the same way we rationed the flour,small amounts spread carefully across every hour.Too much hope burns through faster than the food,too little and the body goes into a different mood. Rationing is the practice of extending what you have,rationing is the discipline of the longer path.Rationing is not deprivation if

Punchline Baby She texts the punchline–the two-wordmessage, the heard-it-first of the bit I’ve beenbuilding for three weeks, the cleanarrival of the endingbefore I told it. The bendingof the comedian by the partnerwho’s ahead. The charter. [Chorus]Punchline baby–she texts the endingbefore the comedian’s bendingtoward it. She sees the bitbefore I do. I committo the credit: the

Punchlines That Never Heal [Wraith]April shows up smelling like wet pavement and cheap plastic confetti,That one dumb stretch of calendar where the world shrugs and agrees that lying is “just for fun” as long as everyone laughs pretty,Signs at the office saying “out of order” on bathrooms that still work, sugar swapped with salt, fake