The Witch Doctor (REVISED)

For love
I offer you the smallest seeds that sprout into faith
In the orange sunlight.
For sorrow
I give you thunder crashes and the wolf's howl
To guide you through the darkness.

For lust
I grant you fragile glass scultpures,
So pretty and so empty.
For ecstasy
I blind you with manic flashes of blue light,
And lead you toward heartbreak.

You come, hands cupped and hungry.
I cannot feed you.
My medicine will rot you from the inside.
You come, seeking refuge from specters,
I cannot exorcise them.
I am the witch doctor,
I only shine the faintest light
On the monsters who hide behind mirrors,
So you know they are there.

What I Saw Through The Window

It doesn't sound the way you'd think
When an aluminum baseball bat hits a man's spine.
It's a dull thud, so quiet you could miss it.
And you don't scream out when it hits.
You just fall to the grass,
Maybe you pray.

The fight began over a woman,
Or money,
Or maybe they just wanted out of this place
In a cop car,
Or a stretcher.

He crawls across the lawn
Towards a rust-stained pickup truck.
Thud,
Thud,
Thud.

Grandma's on the porch,
She's gonna call the police.
But she never does,
And I can't understand why.
I turn away from the window,
Can't stop crying.
My family doesn't understand why.

What happened here?
It wasn't always this way.
I used to chase foul balls on the sidewalk
Where there's a fresh red palm print.
As he reaches the driver's side door and drives,
I catch my reflection in the window and realize
That nothing's changed.

Hills

Grandpa's house sat on top of a hill,
which poured into a valley,
which flowed out into more hills.
Chaotic terrain.
Up and down the same street:
Ranch houses with yellow lawns.
Up and down, up and down
Then spit out into the Oakland hills.
Never green, too dry.
Smoke rolls off the cigarette in Grandpa's hand,
dangling from his fingertips.
He coughs, then spits out the window.
The smell of cigarette smoke is a comfort
when we pass the cattle farms and trout hatcheries
that dot the miles of yellow hills.
We wind back and forth, up and down
in Grandpa's blue Chevy pickup,
I stick my arm out the window
and I am certain
there is no where else to be.

For Brennan, My Once and Never

From the deck
The ocean stretched
So far
So far
Our time was short
So we didn’t sleep ‘til dawn
In the sunlight
Your pupils were points of black
In a sea of pale green
Where I got lost
So long
So long

In blackest night
The sirens screamed
So loud
So loud
The whipping wind
Fed the fire ‘til dawn
In the flashing lights
The alarm’s glow
Illuminated fear
I remembered that look
So long
So long

From the shore
The ship was burnt
So dark
So dark
The sea was calm
The ash dimmed the sun
In the pale light
I found no fire in your eyes
Strangers now
And the miles between seem
So long
So long

I Can't Say Why

I can't say why
I never came to visit
your house,
the hospital,
your grave.

Where Were You (REVISED)

The lights burned out long ago, she said
But it's alright.
We've got some candles and a little red wine.
You'd never question my integrity,
Though I'm certainly a fool
For you.

It would've been so nice
If we had met when I was seventeen,
My eyes were full of wild.
I was thin and I would grin
At every girl who passed me by.
I would've made a scene
Just to get you to notice me.

The pain died down long ago, I know
But it lingers,
Just like my hand against your waist
As you breathe slowly in and out.
I'd never question your divinity
I am faithfully yours.

Slam Poem

Jesus Christ is Not President

Graffiti buildings:
God is love
Children picket:
God hates fags
Apartheid 2.0
Beck, Romney, Bunning, Bahner
Blood on your hands
Vaccine poison, ban on stem cells, lazy unemployed
A new red scare
Santorum, Hannity, Palin, King
Blood on your hands
Death panels, reverse racism, close the border
A nation still wetting the bed
Playing with imaginary friends

Jesus Christ is not President

Placard on the American Dream:
Bigots only
Tolerance causes earthquakes
Healthcare conspiracy
O'Reilly, Delay, Coulter, Limbaugh
Blood on your hands
Fear like a virus
Filibuster on reason
Birthers, Blackwater, Teabaggers, Vatican City
Blood on your hands
No condoms for Africa
Empathy a dirty word
A nation standing on the porch with a shotgun
Take aim at the rescue planes

Jesus Christ is not President