some days I dream
create politics

some days I dream

In fact, most days I have the waking dreams. I read the mad things said by people who I know know better. In awful dreams I snap back, sharply, with tectonics-shifting rage. In those dreams, the long line of fools gawk in shock and city mountains move. And then I'm left with the aftermath. About the current reality; prose scarcely covers it. So I turn to lyrics. What a nasty
morning coffee
politics

Stuff that keeps the panic away

Not completely away, if I’m honest. But far enough that, if I look with my spiritual eye — the one that can hardly see with because of older age and a bunch of other things — I can take that breath that lets me decide to look away. I’ve spent too much time looking too deeply into what being American actually means. And it broke a bunch of things in me. Some expectations gentled