Burn the Carnival Down (a poem)

At the carnival, I worry the high-fliers
Will fall, exposing us all to the ugly truth
That we’re centimeters away from
Death and decay – we’ll bury the performer
Below, but we’ll have nothing to show
For the bravery he put on display –
The sad clowns will cry and terrify
The children, and the madmen will laugh
And be locked in cages like Hunger Artists,
But, hey, tell me, who will save us?

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Cheap Carnival (a poem)

in psych wards, they take your belt, shoelaces

anything you could use to hurt yourself

when I’m there, I fear the world will kill me

so, I give them my belt, tell ’em to take good care of it

& I talk to others there

& I feel damaged & I identify with compatriots –

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Brave (a poem)

what does it mean to be brave

in today’s age?

maybe it’s simpler than we think

like the warrior societies of old

their ethos to put family first

die for a cause, face aristocrats

who sit on gold-plated thrones

who bemoan gutter-champions

& bare-knuckled brawlers

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