Wyk

I’m going to post this poem until he’s back.

I listen to you every time even though you are with Thomas. Shots fired but not meant.

Dork is me. Sorry. I can’t figure out social media.

I did.

I did. Thank you.

Poetry is power spelled write.

You are most welcome, Matt. I have been listening to you for a while, and i appreciate how sane and peaceful you are.

@stevevladeck.bsky.social a poem i performed about Mr. Abrego-Garcia.

Check my page, i guess. I’m not good at this.

@mattcameron.bsky.social I performed a poem the other night about Mr. Abrego Garcia.

I would love a single repost.

timely

A new poem:

she doesn’t mean it i know
i have to know
otherwise
there is only cruelty and pain
she does not
must not know
how to fix it
fix herself
make herself more in love
with me
more attracted
open
warm
inviting
her more
her with me
than she is now

This

The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai: Across the Eighth Dimension. Or just Across the 8th Dimension.

Poet:

what makes
you a poet
is not
only
your words
but your
lines

a break
a pause

stop right
here

say it
like this

one more time

Another:
cracks in our idols may be forgiven
or ignored & overlooked

chips in their bases
attributed to our rough handling

their tarnish—a reaction
to our dirty palms

but when our idols are shattered
their hollow insides are exposed

empty eggshells of worship
wrapped around

an imagined god

It is mine. Thank you.

My first post, a poem:

snow

snow stays silent white
only so long
as its heavy powder
holds us behind glass
and beneath blankets

soon slush marks
the streets and sidewalks
dunny grey
mirroring winter’s
tarnished silver sky
needing
the jeweler’s care