A poem a day?

O tongue of oil between the violated
thighs of Iraq, whose open mouth
is Israel licking America’s gun-butt
while the pornophony
of Palestine gangbanged by all three
sounds through the wall the gyzym
and saliva cries in twisted lascivia…

“We don’t want you to make war
anymore anywhere on earth.
If you do we will stop you and your
weapons of mass destruction
without even a shot being fired.
We’re the majority. You’re an unruly child.
Go to the corner and learn your lesson”—

then, America, finally you’ll be free.

Getting out of the BART
up the long
steep staircase
nothing could have prepared me
for what I would see at the top

The market at the Civic Center.

For weeks
I learned the stats about San Fran
and the homeless.
I looked at pictures.
I read stories.
I contemplated.
I was unprepared for
what I would see at the top.

Take a picture of me.
Now take a picture of my other side.
That’s a dollar.
Two dollars.
One for each personality!

Prepared though I was
I was not.

I lost sanity plans
hope compassion.
I lost.
I was lost.
Lofty goals
Memorized statistics
lost on the stairs covered with gum piss
human excrement.

What can prepare us for
apocalypse?

I lost me
appetite
desire.

Get back in the tube and leave
it them myself.
Leave my thoughts hurts lack of
compassion and shame.

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