Growth can’t happen any other way.



Another woman raped.

Another gun pressed 

against another forehead.

Another horrific trauma shown

for entertainment

To show us, this happens.

Believe me, I know. I

see them coming, those 

predictable atrocities.

I see them all the time.

Every day, too much,

Once again innocence shredded

as the next news story comes out

the next cycle of horror and once

in a lifetime terror happening

predictably, every single day. 


Hugs and ice cream

Hugs and ice cream

cure the ills of the very young

or the young at heart, not needing much,

just caring and simple pleasures

cold melting chocolate, slippery sweetness

on the tongue.

My tongue is dry and heavy

the weight of unscreamed words

choking me into silence.

I’m not happy and

I don’t know why. The magic

has slipped out of my grasp

and I miss it. I miss being

the center of a tipping universe.

Now I barely make a ripple

and I’m starting to hate

my little pond.