managing

we whiz along, or grind
jaws tight with effort
to be good and right and
happy

until we explode—
all the mess to clear up
exhausted

screaming and crying and chaos and blood
nearly always
the loom of news vans

we are no more than animals
we fear

while juncos hop along the brick
cat-scattered
squirrel descends fence
walnut bigger than its head
tight in its teeth

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tree lessons

how we remember
to keep our head
in this storm, not thrown
this way or that, smash-
happy to believe
any worst thing
all that screeching
through leaves
—let’s talk
like the trees
subterranean, feel slow
mud pulse before earth
unfurls, surface-catching
breath to turn green
or sparking red, gold
—let’s put it aside
let the wind glide
right over grateful eyes
and fingers, not even this
moment or year
or eternity

Disgusted is not too strong a word

1.
Well. We know they have power
and you have sometimes said to me
That’s a strong word
when certainly I meant it.
I don’t wield them like weapons
but I try to have a point.

2.
after splurging on thought
(time travel, what life
we could know before TV)
and a surfeit of sad violins
nothing left for it
but cleaning (the deep stuff)
as if scrubbing might solve
this damned spot

Progress

Look to space—soundless,
starred fascination-deep. Silence
this clash of human cries. Let’s
sit snug and dream of drone-
delivered stuff, hash political hairs
and tell kids they don’t want
to work at McDonald’s. Let’s bash
bullying and say it’s okay
to cry over math every night

PAD Chapbook Challenge, Day 6 prompt, “We’re being watched,” touching on technology. I went a little slant, perhaps.