the first american highway was paved with genocide
a leaf that lingered brown
i blame robert frost
his cold methodology
his need to fill disused graveyards with
death’s dazzling white snow glamour
a slow creep crystalline across
an already shattered windshield
i blame robert frost
as i cannot blame
my father
my friend
or an absent god
for them forgetting
they had promises to keep
starving hysterical naked
you get the feeling
when allen ginsberg went to poetry heaven
he erased 2020
and wrote in
HOWL
you can’t get there from here
happy Father’s Day, dad
you were
hypocrisy is a mid sized town in Ohio
but hatred
spreads from a holler
in Kentucky
that stretches wide to the statehouse
thank you, public broadcasting
for teaching empathy
when generations
of parents
failed to do so
thank you for maple syrup
Do you think
Canadians feel like
they occupy
the spacious attic
of hell?
ghost light
the moment he turned
and walked away
our world became peckinpah
i can no longer discern
whose blood
my hands are weeping over
agony & vine
for Drew Wise
our friend has died
my little brother
at the library
gone Steinbeck
his cowboy hat tipped back
for Halloween
i imagine him riding
a Grapes of Wrath
skateboard
away from agony
down vine
face to the sunlight
eyes closed
corners of his mouth
the beginnings of a smile
rising
