
Be the rainmaker
Not the drought.
Fill the clouds with water
Not with doubt.

Poetry is Good for America

Be the rainmaker
Not the drought.
Fill the clouds with water
Not with doubt.

I’m on the line
With the hook in my mouth
I’m thrashing
To break free
Because I am young
And stupid in the air
That I can’t breathe.

It’s time to
OnceĀ and finally
Slam the door.
No more travel.
No more chores.
No more mandatory fun.
No more walking beaches
In the sun.
No more.

You are my belt of Orion
My eyes look North
Because of you.
You are the one
My eyes follow –
The stars shine for you
You don’t believe that –
But they do.
You can’t believe that –
Because you are you.

The future arrived today
As a boxcar of burning books.
On a siding near a warehouse
Marked “Tomorrow”.