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Madness in Paradise

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His voice speaks from a different peaceful place

Of the individual, an actor that creates himself

Oceans of privilege and beauty, beaches of success

Jungled in the brain of the addicted, is kenopsia

a feeling that the mansion is empty and you are dead

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Reality Pills

This guy just sent me a message
“I am not looking for the youngest most beautiful woman”

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She hates men and I waste my breath

People are People

Then it becomes evident that

Males were told they are supreme

Despite our humanity women are for taking

That is scary


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Handmaidens

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My daughter read about women enslaved for reproduction
I can’t get into the feminist paranoia and I ain’t one
The lesbian suggested a novel and
I said no thank you, choice is wonderful
Humans in my world are so neurotic
I can’t breath around them anymore
Laugh my rearview mirror sign suggests
AT WHAT? You all are not funny


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Superhero of Meaning

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Instead of my social evening, a pool party of a few women poets,

on the couch writing about 3 random words from a hat, a workshop:

Jesus, abuse, mystical, which was my name tag Biologist/Mystic.

The young beautiful Poet Laureate flashed her teeth and slammed

about 100’s of Juarez women murdered and mutilated by corrupt men.

A mythical woman who donned a blonde wig and shot to death two rapists.

She said she was Queer and I went to fill my paper cup with more beer.

You must be right, meaning I am broken and still must be there,.

In the field, visible to anyone who needs a lesson in brokenness.