working class
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The Silence After Your Read this Poem is Political
Ignoring your symptoms and coming to work because a paycheck that’s eight hours short won’t let you replace your shoes with cracked soles for another month is political. The number of PTO hours you’re allowed is political. Whether it takes two months or three of missed rent before you’re living in the street is political.… Continue reading
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I can’t outrun the machine no matter how early I get up or how many lunches I pack
“Make a list of your expenses; sort them into either needs or wants and in times of financial trouble, cut back on the wants” is an advice for a simpler time. I’m working class in the heart of empire in 2025. My list of expenses fall into either “things I’ll die if I go without… Continue reading
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I Make False Promises to My Body
Just one day at a time, I tell myselfotherwise I wouldn’t survivethere’s no way I’d make it through a yearof this little sleep, of junk for meals,of doctor visits put off for another week,another monthif I focused on the big picture,it would jump at mehow unsustainable this is,living like thisbut what choice do I have,… Continue reading
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Drops in a Bucket
There are not enough tears to cry for all of them but I will cry for them on my lunch break and my bus ride home and the hour before I fall asleep the rest of the day requires a straight face and full command of my vocal chords but I will allow my heart… Continue reading
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Throw yourselves on the gears of the mass killing machine
Some days I am the body that stops a bullet. Some days I am the path of the bullet missing its mark. Some days I am clarity, unaccounted for and loaded into the chamber, primed for its moment. Some days the collateral is an entire universe. Some days exit wounds are lifetimes. Some days there… Continue reading
Rampant & Golden 