i keep a wrapper
tucked in the corner
of my wide-leg
jeans with a little
offering: a small
keychain dream
i can hang
from pair of keys

i wonder
   how long
it takes to rest
   before a sliver
summer
   must be
given into
  why can't kindness
be enough

somehow you could empathize with every other woman
left and right but not me,  not my eyes or the way i walked

or even tried to be warm in this wintry desolate situation
left and right but not here, i left and perhaps it was an angel

that carried me purposefully away

a  harrowing time takes two wings and you watch this stymphalian bird take to the skies

its trajectory past the trade posts and into town to eat sick and
to gore on the elderly and the poor, teeth tearing flesh

it only a matter of time before you see its true terror

send it back to the robber barons
                                   tear it this behemoth of a bill
feed the poor and the helpless
                                  take care of the sickly and the old
send this bill back to the robber barons
                                   send its letters dark & black back to the inkwell
protect our public lands and our natural gems from sale
                                   say no to these robber barons
say "no" say "no more, robber barons! "

geez, i cannot see a road to you. every time
i took to it, knocked on your door, the flood came,

and after i garnered the courage to take the same
path, a wildfire in your eyes broke out.

the third time i tried, time became an earthquake
ravaging through the city of my life.

everything shook, burned, and inundated. now
i cannot take any more ground failures

and disappearing roads. you are there, and i am here,
and there is a respective sea

of silence in-between us,  even though i do love you,
i stand in front of a landslide, muddied and hurt