where you’ll find me

you might need to pick my dead body up off the ground while the supporters cheer and the protestors wail and their guns pour smoke out the barrels.

you might need to bail me out when i have welts on my head and dried blood in my hair and in a trail down my nose.

you might need to drive to washington dc to pick me up after the march has concluded and nothing has been changed but it happened and we didn’t let it die.

you might need to get me from the hospital with spray paint on my hands and nightstick bruises all over my chest, welts on my black eyes and two less teeth in my gums.

you might need to follow me from the office of the trucking company where i slashed their tires and they’ve called the cops and aren’t letting me off easy and are calling me terrorist.

you might have to pull me out from under the tires of the paddywagon and undo the handcuffs i locked to people on both my sides.

you might need to wash oil from my eyes and nostrils and earlobes and from my tongue because you found me drowning in the spill.

you might need to bring me food because we all gave it to all the starving people who were somehow worse off than us.

you might need to watch me get torn to pieces by the mob because you knew i would never join them.


poem at lunchtime

dinnerbell rings into the

vacuum of hunger-stricken stomachs

and the growl of famine bellies

roar over the moans of pain and

the wails for just a bite of anything.

canned coca-cola ads and mcdonalds lovin’ it

and exxon cares marketing strategy 

comes through the pipes to not fill empty

glasses while capital one what’s in 

your wallet is slathered on recycled cardboard bread

with hellman’s mayonaise packets distributed

by a rep with love-handles.

the ragged bones masses with hands

like pitchforks stab at the ground

where Johnny Mayo Packet sows his

seeds in emerging markets, then

tear open the foil packet

and squirt the white goop down their

parched and barren throats.

hunger, hunger, hunger, hunger lives

in the fences they live within.

no one has seen an apple or banana 

for years. the bread rises like slime

using the flour they’ve been given.

sunlight hides behind green-grey

clouds that choke all the ground 

and all the water.

can of copypasta outrage

edit: [insert tragedy]

date: [here]


“our nation mourns”

“whoever carried out these despicable acts”

“we are resillient”

“heinous and cowardly”

“thoughts and prayers”

“mourners gathered at a candlelight vigil”

“first responders speak”

“you go home and hug your kids”

“like nothing i’ve ever seen”

“an all too familiar scene”

“the 911 call”

“shots rang out in the quiet town of”

“america is great because americans are strong”

“i thought, ‘oh my god. i’m gonna die.'”

“it started out like any other day.”

“i could just tell that she was gone and was never coming back”

“it sounded like firecrackers”

“i got down and i prayed and prayed”

“bells rang out; a sombre reminder of”

“there was blood everywhere”

“there was blood everywhere”

“there was blood everywhere”

“there was blood everywhere”