Ode to a Republican Tax Plan

The devil will give you candy
and pat you on the head
and make you think you're better off
by following his plans.
He'll show bullet points on paper
but stop you from turning the page
"Just take your sweet treats and we'll take care of the rest!"
Is what he always says.
But the rest isn't a sweet nap,
It's a long and twisted night.
and no matter how you reach and lurch
you can't turn on the light.

Mettle

We dance and we leap,

paint fine facial features, sing arias,

build bridges, streets and cityscapes.

We tend to our children

and the weakest among us.

We kill and we creep,

go along to get along, justify,

demolish subtle ideas.

We abandon ourselves

like an addict exhausted.

Capable of everything possible

we can be magnificent,

and also we can

lose conscience and tenacity.

Calls for optimism become

some long lost book

of famous last words

found buried deep in rubble

by anthropological sorts

in a future to be determined.

No mettle, compassion, or commitment to love

constitutes a cycle of abuse.

Look at pictures of armies for tyrants

and civilizations that fall to the will—

some for lack of support, some may surmise

that some dictated end justifies

fueling the hate, and Hate lies.

So: No.

Mettle, compassion, and commitment to love.

Break the cycle of abuse.

Look at pictures of activists for peace

and societies that stand up to the cruel—

some for show of support, some may surmise

that what speaks for our species thrives

in nurturing empathy, and Empathy arrives.

Yes.

Mettle.

Compassion, and commitment to love break the cycle of abuse.

We dance and we leap

in a future to be determined.

Underneath a Stormy Sea

Underneath a stormy sea
that'd pitch a ship and wobble sealegs,
that'd hitch a hip to bend to nausea
that'd already shifted the seabirds inland for shelter
fish swim
in beautiful caverns.