America on the Brink
Will We Stand for This?
I want to rest on the shore until the urchins break skin and the salt seeps in.
Andy
133 posts
poetry
Be Wary of Sadness in Dark Times
I notice my parents’ aging as I do my own: Not at all, then in a photo, all at once.
poetry
What Can a Poet Do in Times of War?
There are epochal battles blazing around the world, Blinding to those who look, shrapnel of noon-day sun In the concerned citizen’s eye.
Be The Change
What of the Future?
I’ve been hearing Save the Rainforest since I was small enough to sleep in the safety of my parent’s bed or snuggled with stuffed animals— pandas, giraffes, monkeys, frogs;
America on the Brink
Waiting in Line to Donate Blood After A Mass Shooting
This is where we come together, not before but after: The blood already drained, we refill it; we never lack for blood to give.
America on the Brink
Reichstag
It doesn't matter who lit the flame that burned the Reichstag down, only that it burned and so few considered what cremation means to those who long for proper burial.
Capital Good Fund
The Problem With Most Impact Investing
Imagine I told you that by switching your money from one investment vehicle to another—with the click of a button!—you could not only earn the same re
America on the Brink
The Machinery of the State
A relentless South Texas wind poses impossible questions, / flaps the smirking flags until they are upturned, / mists the mown grass with evil's sputum...
America on the Brink
The Frantic Invisible Night
They’ve separated 5,500 children. No, they’ve discarded them like cans of Coca-Cola, 5,500 children who reached our shore like sea foam, salty, crying salt...
Certitude
Forgetting
Why can I not forget when forgetting is the cure? The warm, wet beach hisses and coos, but her allure Belongs to those who want to rest. I do not want to rest. “Listen to your doctor,” they say. “You are but human! You can’t go on like this!”
poetry
Insanity: A Sonnet
I’m insane, or at least not well, my brain A flooded grave, the coffin cracked by roots From a forest overgrown…she has slain The dead once again, and from me no fruits