In the sweltering heat or chill of wind—I sit In my vinyl seat, knees knock the aisle Cushioned between the rattling vent And greedy legs spread—swaying While the D96 to Potomac Park Lurched forward, brakes hissing, Forged its path in potholes and pedestrians. Among bouncing wheels or dusty seats—I sketch The old woman, a beaded necklace Banging against her chest—reminded me of Nana’s lost memory, The tired man, a bulging backpack Pressed against his chest—wore a story much l

The hazy heavens of the sky look down at me today, and I stare directly in their eyes, knowing that I will survive. Because I’m ready, because I must. If not, the world will not be just. If not, the world will not be mine. If not, the world is out of time. And I just can't be its decline.

War O’ senseless war, pointless in its wake, Soldiers fight and die for leaders’ blood thirst.  Millions will die; the world will now shake, Because one man’s ego was at its worst. Leaders lead and people die for nothing, Why put our lives for another’s purpose? Fight ourselves and divide: pushing, shoving, Distract us, entertain us in this circus.  We are not in control of our countries, We live and die by another’s red hand. Fighting among ourselves O’ people please, Live f

Wildered pain echoes in the rib  forgotten suffocated  The earthly serapis  Buried in Turkish waters The body defaced   Gently like sugar under the tongue  By serene pleasures  ether and smoke  Seductive melodies of split fig  Shades and porcelain thighs  Laced maroon  Like the withering decadence of Chinese calligraphy  Burning  The amber’s soft touch of ecstasy  Laying Venus among holy Buddha  Thighs laying upon each other  Moist steam of untouched sensation  Sticky with th

For months, people have accepted the line—a single-file march that curls through the town. No one knows where it ends or when it started; they only know to stay. It stretches a great distance, down the length of Park Street, and disappears over the town’s foggy hills. No one knows how they survive. People do not eat, drink, or sleep in ways anyone can see, yet they persist, perfectly still. The line provides, somehow, for them all. Tuesday, March 15, was the day the line firs