Not meant to be good,
Not meant to be great,
And it certainly wasn’t,
It was,
Clumsy and Corny…
And Horny…
If it was a race,
Neither of us were runners,
We were more like throwers for javelin or shot put,
Cause there was no finishing for us,
But we gave it a shot,
A good enough attempt to keep at it,
To one day be good or great at it,
One day be a runner in that race,
But hopefully not finish first of course,
So while its only value is being the “first”,
That’s good enough.
we are proud we
are the proud ones
of what we do
we do not know
because knowing isn’t funny
eating knowledge isn’t tasty
seeking image isn’t easy
american longevity prepositions everything
belligerent technology manufactures intelligence
we don’t know we
think we might know
so we try to
do do do do
schooling working watching poison
online posting miming reason
sleeping dreaming seizing freedom
advertising professional development propriety
encouraging insulated cooperative society
To get his ear pierced, that Neanderthal
Trump should have gone to Claire’s in the mall
Where he could have gotten shot in the ear
From someone using sterile ear-piercing gear
Then off to Hot Topic for a pewter axe
To stretch that piercing way past the max
After walking upstairs to the second floor
No crowd there to greet him, to clap and to roar
No one follows him as he walks through the fray
MTG was there, though, in her usual way
While looking at the map that says you are here
Suddenly he felt someone touching his rear
Of course, it was Marge, that dumb-fucking hick
She was in dire need of a tube of chapstick
Which she needs to use before walking laps
So her lips don’t scratch up his loose butthole flaps
Even though very few joined as they walked
He’ll lie in ALL CAPS that it was MILLIONS WHO GAWKED!
All his sad tales make me think his man gland
Is similar in girth to the pinky on my hand.
People disappeared.
Not just people but our neighbors. All five of them. Momma, Poppa and the three kids with
thick black hair who played with our kids, wispy blonde blue-eyed, all three.
When they moved in, I remember
You were a little uneasy.
We only speak English, you said.
Our kids learned their language as fast as their kids did ours
To show them what America was like, we showed them old reruns of Mr. Rogers
They didn’t want to watch it.
They did it.
Last night, our neighbors
Disappeared.
It was so quiet for a Sunday morning, that we went over
We always went to each other’s side door
There was a note
Please take our dog
And Penny,
That was Juanita’s chicken.
I knocked and the door opened
By itself.
Entering the kitchen was like our own
The smells were familiar
Last night we were here.
We ate bisteces
And from-scratch tortillas.
I had to apologize for my kids
Who chased Penny, the chicken
Through the hall
“All the kids were in on it,”
Paloma said with a smile.
“You’re more patient than me,”
I confessed.
Diego added, “Kids be kids. It’s ok.”
I looked at you.
You didn’t say a thing.
You do that. Let me stand there alone when I am vulnerable,
Undefended.
You pulled the note down and stared at it
Solemn but helpless as usual.
And suspicious. You reminded me that you said we should not get so cozy.
We don’t know these people, not really.
My youngest screamed from the back yard
“They shot Penny!”
Peppy, the dog had already come up from the basement
And was dancing around us
Pulling on your jeans leg
Frantic.
You pushed him away,
Gave me that disgusted look.
People like our neighbors don’t shoot animals,
I said.
ICE did it
Ice-cold did it all
It dawned on me that the rumor was true and now
It is happening
They must have come late in the night
I must find ICE COLD and tell them
About our neighbors.
They pay more taxes than we do,
We eat in each other’s houses,
Our kids are best friends
The only person undocumented is
Paloma and she is due to receive citizen ship next week
She’s been working at the local Holiday Inn for twenty years.
Where did they take our neighbors?
What do we do?
What did they do?
Did they fool us all this time?
I feel myself going numb
I am becoming you. And they, them.
–Gayle Baldwin, 16 November 2024
Look at it she says with a firm but gentle voice, you will feel better if you look at it.
I knew in my heart and in that moment, whatever blood and tissue or perfect baby girl lay on that cold
steel table would get no acknowledgement from me.
I desperately pressed my face away, against that same cold steel, I could feel the tears pooling on my
cheeks and my legs straining against the stirrups.
The joy we felt just weeks earlier, when the plate on my full belly danced as she explored her secret
world.
Anastasia, curly red hair, big blue eyes and a future of endless possibilities.
Syphilis the Doctor gently murmured as he stroked my hand when the quickening stopped.
After that, I found myself at the hospital on the Gulf where all the poor girls go.
I should have hated the man I married.
I should have left.
I should have listened to my family and his and never married him to begin with.
However, his training was ironclad before I was on the shores of the Gulf.
Cut off from anyone who had ever loved me.
3 AM wake up calls when the clerk was too friendly or I smiled at a random stranger.
Always known for my strength my moxy and my humor before I met him.
It took three years for his family to call my parents and explain that I would not survive.
I bundled up my new son and went home.
40 years later secure and happy with the man I love.
I console my friend as she gives me the details of her daughter’s miscarriage.
With tears in her eyes she ask, “How do you get over something like that”
With no confidence in my voice, I say, “You just do”.
sun rises above
bully for that great grand ball
darkness still will fall
birthright
wheat fields far and wide
a golden noose fit just right
emancipate me
coffee
i’ll be there for you
taste buds secure each days plights
so much more than beans
me
mistaken epic
broken kaleidoscope you
simply put haiku
muse
we’re boys together
becoming men in a room
like can’t make one love
downtown
racing toward heaven
erect promises abound
rat race made dirty
addict
kissing by the book
flesh fantasy in your pants
then I long for it
modern world
doomsday clock rings true
suddenly sirens screech songs
we can’t be bothered
Lessons that result in questions
level out to heaven’s
sake, just what does it take,
the words, they don’t break me
but absence, it slays
the strings left unplayed
our bed is not made,
there’s no serenading
the statues,
but I’ll ask you
is it possible
we’re only audible
to those that matter?
Dwell on the lost—
a step down the ladder
pop the champagne, just us
& watch it splatter
celebrate the way
the world, it flatters
you & I,
connection is true
so find the message in views
take the best from the news
trials to light the fuse
that way we’re different
from all the days we could have curled up in it
through all the pain, it pays to keep on living
that way we’re giving
back to the people who can hear,
those that harvest when we’re near,
share the fruit & share their fears
join in courage and in tears,
& through the years
they are all ears
yes, I’m proud to be in this existence
& to have found holy with your assistance,
so I’m passionate, in love, & our persistence
lifts us past the days where no one listens
the whole world glistens,
this is
the path
to fruition.
Blood on the wall, I can feel the butterflies.
I lick my sleek crimson blade, my pleasure unmasked.
The screams are exciting, your pain delighting, my true colors shining.
Feet thudding as they run, oh, how I love the chase!
They think they can get away, my laughter uncontained,
I only let you think so because it’s all a part of the game!
Fear makes you predictable, one wrong move and I can finally finish you.
I’m twirling, spinning, this feeling can’t be shaken, the thrill unmatched.
They say it’s wrong, but how can something be wrong that feels so right?
I’m always nearby; you finally made your mistake, I’m right behind you.
Screams echoing, my arm raising and falling, your pain gives me life.
Hot, thick, iron-smelling liquids cover me, tricking down my face.
A sigh of relief escapes me, your life force fading to nothing.
I never want this feeling to end, so why should it?
I’ll make this an endless cycle; my delight will be everlasting.
There’s White everywhere.
Winter time is finally here.
Warm hugs and warm meals.
With warm greetings from old friends.
Warm living rooms filled with family.
Warm sweaters and warm socks.
Outside is cold snow
Cold wind and cold ice.
A beautiful white landscape.
Winter is here.
to pretend that the world
has not always been this way
is to lie through our teeth,
cracked open and spaced
like fence boards, separating
house from house.
yes, the world has always
been vinegar and bleach,
pinecones which only open
when the forest catches fire;
the man on the high castle
only willing to jump if pushed.
hurt is human, selfishness
as much an extension of us
as our own limbs, bent out
of shape, mangled single file-
there is no Great War of the past,
only the invisible war of the everyday.
each time I buy groceries,
they charge me a little extra
take a little off my check
and warp iron into missiles,
steel into bombs, life into dust
homes into ground-up nothing.
and when this catches me,
grief of the morning nausea,
the weight of condemnation,
the burden of quiet compliance;
I shiver, I cry, and the tears
do nothing but dry up in time.
but then, when I gaze at the sky,
see the flowers sprout in spring,
break communion with friends,
comfort my mother, take an off day,
and listen carefully to the sound
of the fight back as it goes on and on-
I can hear thousands of small voices
become a marching band of love,
of justice, of community, of prayer;
the sound of tacks that chip away
at the boulder they called unmovable
and sculpt a world that could be new.
today i’ll raise a hammer,
plowing over heaven’s banner.
today I will plant seeds,
and helping hands will till the winding dirt-
today I’ll dream of work to be done,
the fruits of such we must believe
can still be passed down tomorrow.
today, I’ll sit with life and love and light,
today, I’ll sit with you
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