It was the twelfth of June
another hot and humid Florida night.
In Orlando young people gathered at the
...
I'm walkin' in the rain
(Walkin' in the rain)
Just walkin' in the rain'
...
The world spirals downward in the confines of a nautilus shell,
Its chambered abode antiquated antedilluvian hell.
...
Is it easiest to scribble your life away
Or sleep it all away with booze and broads instead?
...
Out of clay or living rock
I will make my brick or stone:
At the door of God I knock,
Builder whose command I own,
...
Sunlight from the sky's own heart,
Flax unfolded to receive:
Out of sky and flax and art,
Lovely raiment I achieve
...
We're signing up for heartbreak,
We know one day we'll rue it.
But oh, the way our life lights up
The years a dog runs through it.
...
'Thoughts of death
Crowd over my happiness
Like dark clouds
Over the silver sickle of the moon.'
...
We looked in the fridge only to see
moldy Kraft singles and some eye cream. That
eye creme was our pride and joy, so
extravagant and luxurious; it made us feel rich.
...
A gay man is sitting in
a hotel lobby smoking a cigarette;
he stomachs my breasts dutifully like
...
'after decades & decades of poverty
as I now approach the lip of the grave,
will this destroy me?
well, something is bound to destroy
...
We took the mouse alive from the trap
And washed his cheek and set him under
Some leaves with a chicken bone by the
Neighbor's gate. In the morning, we found him
...
As I watch you leave again,
I begin to measure my history
In lines of old flesh, grown
Solid like the bark of trees.
...
Hunched forward under rain, with his boy asleep
In dungarees locked to his chest, and pushing
Against the steeled rhyme of rain licking the
Skin, and bouncing from the beaded flesh, he
...
When the snow falls softy on faces,
It caresses all parts with the love
Of a young mother. Who is he
That would call the snow cold and
...
I can write or say anything:
Say that, (for example) there's a heaven,
say that the moon's a round faced yellow nymph:
...
Thanks, Dad.)
Life Ebbed Away
It was the twelfth of June
another hot and humid Florida night.
In Orlando young people gathered at the
Pulse Club, enjoying camaraderie, the
dance floor pulsating with life,
dancers moving to syncopated music,
Latin rhythms, good will embraces,
laughter, friendships, plans for
tomorrow, flashing smiles releasing
stress in silent motions.
Then the pulse of life ended.
A man on fire came from a dark,
twisted place, methodically spraying
death, massacring our LGBT
dancers who fell like cut flowers.
Pulses died in 49 bloodied wrists,
blood pressures plunged to zero,
juices of life that would never
flow into the future stained
the sad dance floor.
Shock spread across the country,
across the world, enough grief
to last many lifetimes. Lost lives
cannot be replaced.
Orlando pulled together, offering
condolences and help. From here
we sent flor y canto, oraciones,
flowers and poems, prayers.
Left bereaved on this senseless
plain, we wondered who killed the
Golden Rule, Love Your Neighbor.
We mourn our fallen comrades, our
gay sisters and brothers, and after
grieving we march to tear down the
barricades of hate, bigotry,
prejudices. We march to tear down
walls that separate.