Gloria we Ms. you

Gloria we Ms. you

The manosphere is square

Inequality is

Increasing everywhere

Brothers or museum

Men choosing the wrong Tate

Masculinity is

Not dictatorship mate

Louise Nevelson sleep

Louise Nevelson sleep

Into the blacker black

To then dream profusely 

In fantasy flashback

Wake and see locust trees

Some leaves small yellow dots

And bruises on your skin

Cancer causing blood spots

Sadness is dripping in

Sadness is dripping in

The pails out to catch it

Holes in the roof not fixed

May need to re-thatch it

The work is not easy

The pace of each new hole

Understanding reasons

Like playing Whack-A-Mole 

I was my own best thief

I was my own best thief

Dreams halved and halved again

A child’s blanket reduced 

To threads to make us men

Choices for the moment

Thinking that time is long

Time cannot be stored up

Compromises were wrong

Such an eerie silence

Such an eerie silence 

The skies without airplanes 

Two fingers of sadness

Fallen on old Dutch lanes

So many families 

The loss of yet to come

Miss Liberty witnessed

Yet she did not succumb

Lilies of the valley

Lilies of the valley

Beneath a dryer vent

Tumbles down the park hills

In Springs that came and went

The brief peony blooms

The daisies split and shared

The hummingbird moths and

The red cardinals paired

Blue, magenta and white

Blue, magenta and white

Love of another shade

Not the red carnation

Or paler painful fade

Not purple valor or

Black as a club or spade

But in the twilights where

The sun does not pervade