Alt-Psalm #2 (a poem)

Help, LORD, for the godly are no more

& we drown in mud

always wanting more

sex, drugs, rock ‘n roll

but, LORD, do you really care about this?

what’s wrong with a roll in the hay?

what’s wrong with being gay?

nothing at all, i suppose you’d say

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Alt-Psalm #1 (a poem)

Why, O LORD, do you stand far off?

up in cloudy heavens

obscured by bright suns

that brutalize my brethren

i seek peace, O LORD

but pieces of me shatter

into tiny shards

every time the gun shots

blare in this dystopian world

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Fundamentalists (a poem)

what I can’t stand most

is a fundamentalist

those so warped they

plow through the world

for absolutist goals –

true believers born again

carrying crosses to capitol buildings

committing divine crimes

receiving direct messages from

god via email

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Unbreakable (a poem)

to say we were lost boys would be cliché

but clichés have ways

of cementing truths into language

like hard red suns that scorched West Philly & warm beers we guzzled ‘till we couldn’t walk straight & time went missing like a thief

who stole my innocence

& we packed into an old sedan on a road to nowhere &

perhaps, if time is not linear, this had to happen &

if free will is a myth, we had no choice in the matter,

merely swigging, smoking, fighting in adolescent wastelands

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God’s Polaroid Camera (a poem)

For my father

in the dining room, action figures were imprisoned in a green vase, and you returned from prison with my uncle, looking slimmer

from pushups in sunbaked yards

mustache and dazed look gone, down on one knee, arms open wide & smiling with teeth I learned were fakes

I thought you were fake, too

unrecognizable, a stranger from a blurred past we no longer spoke of, only at grandma’s house, when we opened letters decorated by your brother with cut-outs from Marvel comics

& were told you were away on business –

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Ode to Solitude (a poem)

in solitude I come to know myself –

chatter of others stripped away, me stripped

of creature comforts, a creature without

a haven, thoughts bang & jangle

in a brain that has gone insane –

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Suicide Prevention: Please, Don’t Give Up

I recently got some bad news that a friend of mine from recovery suddenly passed away. He was only 32 years old. As these dark pandemic days drag on, I felt I needed to write this post to process my emotions.

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