Dear America

Would you, America, land and home of the free and the brave,

and the misogynist,

the racist,

the bigot,

the hater,

and the armed and dangerous, kindly get out of my reproductive system,

my heritage,

my bed,

my marriage,

my love affairs,

my health,

my vitality

and my inner peace

…and turn your hand to the health promotion and education of your citizens

and to the re-creation of our justice system so that it is not biased,


and, therefore, unjust “for which it stands?”


I know my power

I own my majick

I am open

I am courageous

I am hope over fear

I am ready

Come with

Or watch me go


poetry is suspended time

“whole days in the trees”

an endless moment of breath and attention

it is the seed underfoot

it is water on stone in sunlight


salt on tongue

it is energy

it is word and song

and skin on skin

I could vine with you within it

dark-veined, hot-hearted

climbing higher, climbing tighter

seeking the heat and light of the overstory

lost in the dew, web and tendril of entanglement

*quote borrowed from Marguerite Duras

on Keith’s words

“in my solitude” I am solace

you feel me?

smooth concentric circles “of reverie”

of temptation: warm, sweet, smart and wildly enigmatic

a sweet girl roller skating on a fenced in rooftop

and as chaos would have it


and so we are reminded of the finite nature of a rooftop

the inevitability of gravity

and the mutability of fences

and if you’re willing to work a bit harder


if life doesn’t provide

there’s always fiction