from broken windows
fear’s eyes peer into the night
seeing what’s not there
for ghost stories have been told
by those who thrive upon lies


president plagiarized from blacks…

like the wiz’s witch
the white house warlock declared
don’t you bring me no bad news
don’t test nobody ‘cept me


free will…

outside an open grave
sun burns a man’s rotting corpse
there’s no one to grieve
dried fingers clutch coins of gold
he dug this grave years ago


can’t sleep…

i’m just lying here
reviewing how life’s been spent
revisiting days
when decisions were made and
wondering which ones i made


freedom’s march…

rotating the sphere
an embedded scorpion
that appears to move
merely the glass refraction
like societal changes



i’ve begun to think
should have done this years ago
could have avoided
the imposed sins of my skin
and act like slavery’s gone


when in doubt sanctions and threats…

thinking the world’s black
trump continues to use force
against anyone
who doesn’t bend to his will
a coward hiding ‘neath flag