there they are
spattered
over frozen ground
always dark
always violent
always nearby
risen faceless
fueled through hate
not men but destroyers
(February 12, 2026)
Category: anger
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It happens right here
in front of us:
close enough to feel
the blood splatter;
close enough to hear
her lungs wheeze;
close enough to smell
the rusty wet iron.
We shrug and move on.What’s there to do?
But scream,
and point fingers;
then wake up to start
another day in America.
(December 25, 2025)
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Just another day:
the children go off to school;
students are gunned down.
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“What shall I say, because talk I must?”
-William Carlos Williams
Perhaps if I gnaw
off my tongue,
I could drown
in unvoiced blood.
I have no insight,
no words as balm
beyond my silence.
It’s easier, safer,
to be polite
to watch the end
and say nothing.
I am dumb-founded,
when I should scream
against all decorum.
(April 5, 2025)
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Long vindictive waves
pummel everything
before them like tears.
There is no shelterfrom the storm’s dark surge
swallowing the shore.
Like dead jellyfishpulsing on the sand,
anger’s sting remains.
(June 21, 2024)
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A poor response to terror— again,
to children slaughtered in their classroom—
And again, will we learn anything this time?
The politicians and news punditsgossip and chitter like crickets;
and nothing, again, nothing is done.
Here, a few hours distance to Uvalde,Black-eyed Susans and Horse Mint dance
to the wind, as if nothing changes.
Each time (so strangely common) I thinkof my students and the possible horror—
and pray (in my way) for redemption.
Tomorrow, my students will graduate,and head off to college— with the hope,
again, that they will change this world.
(May 30, 2022)
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I have said this before: There needs to be photographs published of the aftermath of these shootings. Not the bodies of the torn up 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders (6-9 yo), but the destruction of the room. Blood spattered across the walls where their work had been displayed by the teacher. The work the children had been so proud to see hanging on the wall. Walls that are now blood stained. These common classroom artifacts desecrated in blood need to be seen…these murders are not neat and tidy, easily forgotten (obviously). Do not show the dead children, show the bullet holes in the walls, show the blood. The blood of the innocent. Maybe that would help in bringing enough rage to the surface to bring about meaningful change. Maybe.
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All these rituals—
incense and prayer!
You speak too muchwith too many words.
I spit; the sour tasteclings to my teeth.
(April 29, 2022)
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The wind grabs the trees
by the hair in base anger.
I have no escape.
I head into the darknesswith no light promised to come.
(April 10, 2022)
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Anger rose like a bear
growing to its full height,
growling into the trees,
massive arms outspread.
It has been yearssince I manifested him;
my meds, like dogs,
keeping him at bay.
Yet, a small thing,no more than a stone,
easily ignored—
was enough:
he flowed through me,the adrenaline surged;
my face flushed;
my jaw clinched.
Anger swirled around me,like a vibration of bees
migrating slowly
across an open field.
I watched it unfoldthrough me, as easily
as when a child
I watched him shift
from himself into fear.But I could not run
from myself as easily
as from him. So, I let it
pass. I stood still listeningto silence, and it dissipated
like waves on a beach
chased along by sand pipers.
(April 8, 2022)
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This is me:
laconically bored
sitting in the stands
watching from above.
This is me:focused on the moment
tracing a rune
across the killing floor.
This is not a mirror,a simple reflection,
rather, a dissection,
a slow flay, where
skin peels offin thin sheets until
only raw red bits
of sin cling to bone.
I am a myriad,shattered.
I am a scar,
angry and raw.
(October 14, 2021) -
Tomorrow I go back on contract for my 33rd year of teaching. Last year was one of the worst years because of distance learning and the lack of contact with my students. The Students are always the best part of teaching, and for the last eight years (starting my 9th) at Ann Richards, I have had the best students ever, every year. Last year it was important that we teach remotely. The students, their families, my fellow teachers, my family and friends were at risk to this horrible deadly disease. We stayed at home and did what we could through a screen full of little boxes, because we had to. This year there is a more deadly, more virulent version of the same disease, and even with the vaccine, which a too large group of people refuse to take, and with no vaccine for the under 12 group…. which means ELEMENTARY CHILDREN….. It is more dangerous than ever to go back. Yet, here we are.. going back into the classroom. Cases are already being reported at my school, and the district where my wife teaches, and across Travis county. I fear for what will happen over the next few weeks and months, as we go full bore back into the schools.I fear for my students. I fear for my grandchild who is starting in a pre-k program. I fear for my family. And all of this is not necessary, we could stay remote. At the very least the elementary schools should stay remote, until the under 12 children can be vaccinated. I don’t understand what is the end game of the politicians like the Texas Governor, who seem to want children to die. What is the benefit to them? I want to believe in a hell, so the people who are forcing this to happen have some place to go.
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