#3- Of Violence



There is blood

on the inside of my hood


it’s somewhere

between crimson

and scarlet


it’s violence


it has been earned

from every minute

pushing through

the streets of DC.


There is glass

in my boots from

stomping past

the Starbucks

with its corporate

cascade of shattered



it’s violence


But it wasn’t us

wading in the wind

chanting until

our throats tore

they will hear us—


my father marches

within me everytime

this hood hides my face

every time the stun

grenades toss us

to the asphalt


in Moscow

he said all men had to bow

there was no one left

in those cold streets

it’s violence

but this is America


this is America

he said




#2- The Winds of Change



A wind blew through

the harbors of Boston,

through the throughs

of Connecticut,

blessing the angel

headed hipsters

of the Lower East Side

where they smoked

cigarettes and howled

at the winter moon


it met the backs

of the marching souls

in the capitol, stomping

their feet on the asphalt

singing the chaos song

of revolution


a woman

fixes her scarf—

it’s the only thing

that keeps the pepper spray

from getting into her mouth

she holds her sign

she holds her heart

and screams into the air

“My body, my rights!”


across the Potomac

a man slides his punch card

sparks a cigarette and smiles

at the Southern skies

America is changing again

no more sixteen hour days

in the warehouse

no more struggles

president man was going to fix it

bring back the car plants

to Ohio, bring back the work


the flag swayed outside

the window of the oval office

president man looked out

past the lawn to the burning

streets of the nation

he had already lost the reigns of

#1- "Everyone's a Moderate Except When They're Not"

This is day one of a new project where I am posting a poem a day through President Donald Trump's first one hundred days in office as a way to examine how we reached this point. I know it we are three days in but this is where this project begins. If you want to follow me on social media check out my Twitter and Facebook and you can sign up to my mailing list at the bottom of this post. I hope you like the poem, if you do could you share it for me on your social media? It helps a lot! 




Everyone's a moderate except when they're not


I don't think we go 

to the grave divided

or left or right or anything

but dead— just dead

spirited away somewhere

deep in the cosmos


news man says

watch out for the liberals

the conservatives all the

liberals being liberal all

the conservatives conserving

leftie commie socialist anarchist

feminist black lives matter thugs

right wing fascist hill billy

cousin fucking racist klans men

alt right neo nazi deplorables


but I've worked with liberals

who march the streets with

signs protesting for the unheard

after Sunday mass


and I've smoked joints

with old conservatives

from New York who 

voted Trump and have photos

of Giuliani on their desks

next to their Mexican wives


I've sat at the bar with republicans

and democrats and anarchists

who laughed at the same jokes

and cheered for the big blue

of the Monday night

foot ball game

the night was holy 

and wholesome

and we never talked politics 

only sank further 

into our stools


I wonder are there protests

outside of the gates of heaven

all them sinners who voted

wrong banging on the gates?

all them lefties all them righties

all them dead men have

to go somewhere 

and that somewhere

is probably all the same