The shmuck <3 | August 1, 2015

Oh mountains, Oh shadows.

casting on hill sides.

When people hear the military

they think of weapons & training.

I think of projections of empty puffy chests.

Minerals in mountain crests

being fought over

with whack wizard tricks

homie don’t witch like that.

magics for the all of us.

trust in the dust that’s makin cracks outside & inside of us.

don’t be scared of this breaking open

here’s to hopin momma’s got your back


don’t demand it of her


Military trucks everywhere,

occupation creeping over us again & again.

& telepathic witches

fill the ditches with the undergrowth

beaver weaver’s side step misogynists like it’s just a joke.

Stick & poke acupuncture gets it out of there

my gosh is it a lot to share

dare to know each other’s oddities

& glitches

sweet deer eyes

holding fear instead of weilding it

Shielding is temporary shelter

orbiting the terror & come down

“Bring ’em all home.” They chant in a murmur.

Oh yea?

Who’s house will they sleep over

as the truth slaughters their body

as their spirit seizures in gaudy

incrimination of participation in

a national ego not thought through.

Nobody’s winning friend nobody’s winning.

Little boy temper tantrums everywhere.

Therapists can’t deal with it.


We must be counsel to each other.


Protection in this madness.

The front line is everywhere I step.

“Not a combat veteran” my ass.

Everyone is a combat veteran.

Yes, I said it.

Blame it on the concrete

in our concepts.

Blowing up damned water & emotions

seems toxic for a moment

all the rubble seems troubling

& you reach for your comfort.

front lines everywhere.

lines in which we front for safety.

genocide in access & excess

middle class is the m16 you sleep beside.

I won’t stop & make you go through this with me.

I will not.

You hear me?

I get why you desire such things.

The possibility of such beautiful healing.

I have seen the trust sparkling in my loved one’s eyes.

A hope that sprouts from thoughts like,

“You’ve made it this far & you’re doing great!”

Thanks, bud.

Yes & this hate must be contained,

like nuclear fallout.

I am a planet of a metaphor spinning.

& I’ve tried to settle the orbit of that entanglement.

the daughter of too much birthing a son.

My movements are an attempt at simplicity

of the violence within me implicitly

Move. Make medicine. Send it to elders and decedents.

Cultivate health.

There is no need to stop & focus on my implosion.

Rape culture is blatant everywhere.

Choose your dose & integrate.

No one needs to eat everything on my plate

& yet we all have to

however we can figure out.

It is a lot to move.

So keep moving, meeting seeds & planting.

I have become hyper aware & hyper sensitive

& that is no one’s problem.

Just is.

A swallowing.

No. Not a politician.

I’m a living exhibition

of something that needs to be looked at,

rape culture

is present.

& seems to build with repression.

Feel your body right now.


Posted in Uncategorized

Leave a Comment »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

    About the Author

    Mother Lover. <3

    Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

    Join 930 other followers

%d bloggers like this: