Be The Change
High Interest Rates Are a Climate Problem
In 2008 I was a graduate student with almost no understanding of the financial system--I couldn't even explain the difference between an interest
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poetry
Sincerely
Dearest, I meant to prove myself worthy of every challenge, up to death itself. The day began with feats of strength, like getting out of bed and bru
poetry
Grasping the Hand of Whatever Reminds Me I’m Alive, I Dance
You needn't believe in ghosts to dance with them. Just ask the Robin napping in the quiet of a broken fountain, drunk on jasmine and sugar. Ask dr
poetry
Love in Other Worlds: A Sonnet
To write love poems when this world’s a mess is like, depending on your point of view, finding jasmine on the moon—an excess of joy where all is bleak—or dreams of blue sky at night, of food in famine...
America on the Brink
Mourners
We are all mourners now, our clothes funeral shrouds we tear off our backs when the time comes (and it will come); in one pocket we carry brushes for tidying the graves we stumble on in schools, churches, nightclubs, concerts, grocery stores, streetcorners...
poetry
Numb
I can't decide anything these days: sonnet or free verse; to read on the couch or spend my son's brief nap putting away dishes as if dishes could ever stay clean; hope or despair...
Be The Change
Paper Plane
Bad news blares from every stamen, every mouth, every passing car and leaf blower. I am coated in dust. It has been too long since I left this spot. How do trees do it? Do they too grow stiff and restless
Be The Change
Of War and War and War
“When you attack us, you will see our faces. Not our backs, but our faces.” - President Volodymyr Zelensky Beneath a Bougainvillea-laced trellis I r
Be The Change
The Price of Gas
No one is to blame for anything anymore. Or is it that everyone is to blame for everything? Maybe the world has gotten too small: so many billions of us, incomprehensible to ourselves, let alone one another, crowded together
Be The Change
Ukraine
long before the stamps commemorating peace, before factories resumed churning out grenades, some made off with blueprints for conquest, taped them to the walls of their dreams
poetry
The Business of Life and Death
Suppose I grant you the premise of your question. Should I gather up my limbs at once and build something immortal with them? What could I construct to outlast the drowsy calm of this moment?
Be The Change
Elephant
Out of the blue our three-year-old declares he doesn’t like the elephant. For days he repeats—unbidden, as if recalling a nightmare—that he doesn’t like the elephant.