A nation reeled over—
heel, top of head, heel again.
Head over heels to gather attention—
a tension so real it split us from them,
split friend from friend. 
An era to end
and another commence—
hence,
a future begins.

Is there an assumption that holds?
What thread of our bond can endure in the suture?
What is her state? How light must we tread?

Are there women and men?
And what of their children?
Tell me buffalo herds still thump through her plains.
Her mountains' majesty, 
I pray snow still grazes them.

Dreams must now burst through the night.

In the morning, sunlight will embolden her towers,
then lakes, hills, and islands.
Working the day, we must churn out her power;
driven by visions in epoxy-bound film, of a rope-swing swaying above golden flowers. 

Splice these into the moment.

A backyard and grilling,
laughing, breathing, 
kids playing,
birds singing.
Healing, a nation makes its amends.
United, a nation undivided again.

Wish I could find a space rocket and get to you. 
Wish I could be a space ranger, and not read the news, but maybe just a good book about you. 

Remember back in '92? You laid on silver grass. 
Yeah, remember 2092? You laid on silver grass, and you told me about your past.
 
I was new to the world,
didn't even know my name.
I was new to the world,
just got here on my space plane.
 
HAHA!

Don't know a damn bit of nothin' 
and nothin' of somethin' 
or anything between, but 
I'm workin' on a plan
for a quantum lab 
where we'll construct our dreams.

'Cuz, I'm tired of waiting for the night 
to see my star,
and I'm tired of waiting for the dark 
to swim 
the coast 
of My Milky Way. 

I don't wanna go, I don't wanna go
to the other side. 
'Cuz who knows what I'll find. 
I don't wanna know, I don't wanna know, 
what happens when we die, 
'cuz if I'm alone, 
who's gonna tell me, 
why? 

We had the perfect day together:

Sunshine splashed upon the water. 
It cast off all its colors,
dove into your eyes, then soaked up all the blue.

Your hands, soft like satin,
on the bus, laced themselves though mine.
Finally, I was whole again.
If only for a moment, no need to count the time.

You strolled by me through Landstrasse.
At Stephensplatz, wander and rewind.
By Neubergasse, you danced into my soul.
At Steubentor, the world was yours and mine.
 
Then you slept.
Rested your head upon my chest;
our legs were interwoven.
For once, I was not alone.

Later, I slept. 
Rested my head upon your chest. 
I held the perfect moment:
my heart, your heart, our home.

Humble Animal

I am an animal.
A spectacular mammal.
The most beautiful, marvelous,
peculiar, 
but still, 
a spec of the sample.

I am a graceful ensemble 
of limbs that can stumble,
and a heart that's been humbled
to beat out the reminder, 
(cymbals smash) 
"you are simply a man"

Something beyond made the person I am;
gave me legs — I can stand,
nimble hands — work the land,
bones and skin — turn to sand...

Oh precocious brain, beautiful, 
why won't you understand?
The percussive pound 
in the pattering chest 
beats precisely in time 
to the proud piper's plan,
but it is the pulse of a march ... down a plank ... to the plummet 
of a mere mortal man. 

Damn... 

Political Beast

Politics is the air we breathe,
The stuff we suffocate in.
Bipartisan—inhale. 
Diversity—exhale.
Division, the pillow.

Political beasts,
Were it not that, I could kill you.
Handshakes, backstabs,
If not, then wage a war so you can kill me. 

A treaty, 
sue for peace. 
Jigsaw conditions teeter on a tight-rope anchored to atomic oceans' coasts.

Hold your breath. No one move.
That it should all explode, 
were we to let out a sigh of relief.

Do you remember,
Back when we were younger?
Didn’t know right,
didn’t know wrong,
all we knew was Love. 

Do you remember,
sticks and stones and breakin’ bones? 
I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. 

You’re beautiful. 

And what will it be like
the last day of your life? 
I don’t know, but 
I know there always
Light shining in the dark. 

There’s always light shining in the dark. 

I always see you in a painful mirror.
Green eyes, elevated, luminescent.
If only I were nearer. 

Brandy,
who were you and where are you now?
I ache to see you dressing. 
I remember you dancing with your hair twirled ‘round a snowstorm. 
Wildflower. 

I remember you stopping up the hill, 
is that my love far off in the distance?
Is that her silhouette that glistens?
Is that a sunflower?
How I miss her. 

Your postcard, 
Piedras Negras, Texas, 
I still have it in my presence.

If only I were an American,
but instead, I am reminiscent.

You said goodbye to me love,
far before I ever could,
because I was not the man you wanted.

I am short, you are tall, 
I could not give you what you needed. 
You wanted something different, 
And I am inconsistent, 
distant. 
I was just a farmer.
I am just an immigrant.

Now, along the trail, 
I see her blooming ‘cross the desert. 
A burning shadow in the distance,
Iridescent. 

This is her memory that I keep, 
but hold these words in silence.
No one here can know I feel this, 
I would be embarrassed. 

"Hey man,
I know you know English."

"I was in New York for twenty years.
The army chewed me up and spit me out.
I served the country, Desert Storm,
then they caught me selling dope."

"Nah, the shelter isn’t like a prison.
Love is a person’s biggest weakness."

"I’m a normal guy,
but if you like, uh, come at me different,
I just click."

"I learned violence from my sergeant, 
and family is our biggest weakness.
If I’m tortured, they can do whatever,
I’ll never talk. 
I don’t have a family, 
for me there is no distance. 
'Love your country, love your flag,' he said, 
all else is not existent." 

"But let me tell you something;
I do my own thing,
you know?
Like I do whatever.
Three days I’m doing crystal meth,
but I’m cool, calm, and collected. 
I can handle it."

"The army gave us amphetamines,
and salt pills to hold the water.
'To kill more, take this,"' 
they told us, 'if you have any doubts, shoot,'
That was Bush when I enlisted.'"

"In New York, cellmates told me, 
'you’ll never get through 15 years without heroine,'
because I killed a lot of people.
They were so persistent.
But, I can fight withdrawal,
if the dosage is consistent." 

"I’m gonna go now.
The next time you see me, you won’t know me.
Oh, and that guy with the hair bun,
I think that guy is a cop spying on me."

"Don’t trust nobody."

"Actually, you never knew me
The army made me hollow."

"But yah, if man bun comes at me, I don’t give a fuck I’ll snap his fucking neck off.
I don’t know which direction I’m going,
But the meth gives me that feeling I’ve been chasing:
distant, different." 

“Excuse me sir,
Can you step out of the kitchen?
The question I will ask needs silence to deliver.
No, it's not another joke.
My mother’s in the hospital,
and I’m frightened by the distance.
So c’mon, just step out of the kitchen.”

“Ugh, finally.
Now, come up close and listen.
No one else can know I fear this.”

(she cusps her hands around my ear and whispers)

“Is it true that men in here are rapists?
That they think of me as nameless?”

“Well, if not, then what would drive my mom to say this?
Is it because she sits lying, dying in a hospice,
while I can't put up resistance,
and evil is persistent?”

“Uh-huh, okay, then can I make a small petition?
Could you hug me like a father would a daughter?
My family’s gone, my life is in this prison,
and of all the things we left behind,
their love is what I most miss.”

-------

“Excuse me sir, the infection on my mother’s stomach,
it ripped apart the stitches,
and the brother I thought I’d have today,
was born in many pieces."

"He never took a breath."

"As for my mom,
She gave her life to save his.”

“And now my only wish is
that at least some of us will live to see the day,
when we can know what peace is.”

*Quotes are translated from the native language, and some are slightly adapted to fit the poem’s scheme.

Ohhh
Whooo
Are you …

Where did I see your face? 
Where did I see your face?

I knew you were here, 
I saw the smell there

You make life cool, 
I want to be with you. 
That's cool.

I love you, 
and I want to be
 
Your sunshine 
Your starlight
Your rocket 
Your satellite

We'll be alright in the morning,
alright in the evening, 
and I will see you again at night. 

And I never thought I would say this, 
but I think I could see you for the rest of my life. 

You are beautiful 

Your eyes are blue like the sky.

I'd like to take a dive. 

First of all we breathe 
and who’s to thank for that? 
Our lungs designed for air and the exhale, 
where it goes? 
I don’t know. 
But whoever made the lungs must have made the air, 
feeding us for free,
freeing us to be 
me, she, he, you, we. 

Human.

Person, doesn’t
this remind you of the past, and future, 
and present–  
perfect, 
Love.

Then we think, so thanks Descartes.
Domesticate our mouths, 
shape lips like words
sing stories that reminds us 
Ostrogoths
and
Visigoths
Defeated Fallen Empire.
Monoliths of sound standing on an ocean
of present–
preterit emotion,
and in the wake of such commotion,
Our lungs fill up and utter …

“thanks” …

Again and again and again and thanks again 

For the breath we always do
and write air out in books, stamp our sounds on pages;
restrain ourselves through fits and rages,
and think ourselves beyond our cages
 
"Woo-hoo-hoo!" 
 
...then cuddle up in bed  
and pillow-talk with sages,

“What is it that our age is?” 

I see potential in the eyes of someone second guessing,
of philosophers obsessing 
on truth and what they're dressing. 
“Such that, if foot should fall on crack, 
there can be no implication for our mothers' distant back”

Phew ... thanks

So what is it that our age is? 

Take a breath, look up the stats ... 
The foremost killer – heart attacks?
 
When life could be the S.T.D. mom and dad passed down to me, 
Instead I say this; 

Thanks

thanks, thanks, thanks again, thanks, again
 
Join me,
Thanks.
And thank you,
because we can. 

Because our breath will never cease,
And if it does, we’ll never know. 

Thank you, God. 
Thank you, Love. 
Thank you, Man.

Thanks, 
Amen 

My life I walk from beginning to end.
Each pace, the last of its kind.
Onward I go, to the beginning, again,
each forward step, a step to rewind. 
This step. 
That step. 
These steps  — each belong in their time.

Here I go now, back to remember.
There I go then, to do what was said. 
My life I walk with a recurring memory:
Something has risen where something was dead. 

I remember a time 
when, 
I travelled to the beginning of time. 
You, in your time, went back to the end. 
You, down the infinitesimal; 
I, up the infinite bend. 
Then, in the present, 
A bang.
God, 
in the quiet,
"Let's try this again."

In my freedom I chose family
Because freedom is good and starts with an `f`
And friends and food are also `f`-ing good 
As does and is 
fucking, and farting, 
both of which are fun and funny too.

And if not for Faith, my fire merely smolders  
Smoke without heat,  
a lie of my life, 
just skin getting older. 

Then I thought, “is God talking to me through `f’s` - my feelings?”
Because I feel love for all these things, differently,  fiercely.
So I choose `f`, forever, and whatever follows