I want so badly to live
Here on earth today
And it is the hottest day
Of the Summer today
It is 48
I can't take the heat
The heat
Is killing all of us
It is very bad for the people
Who have asthma
And heart problem
I am thinking about
Going on for a swim
On lake Ontario
That will cool me off
Also I am not crazy about swimming
I prefer to go for walks
On the boardwalk
First thing in the morning
Because there is nobody around

Two cards with much in common
Each move through power's halls.
In this game of chance,
They've counted, to win the call.

Although many players run in circles,
To keep these chancers in place,
Secrets can always be uncovered,
Take a seat, and watch this space.

As every pack has its joker,
With a trick left up their sleeve.
Poised yet to unveil,
The ways these card sharks deceive.

Summation notation of achievements
wrought absolute zero
pridefulness to self -
a veritable highstrong yoyo
(lame at walking the dog)
a solitudinarian devoid of xoxo
methinks (writer of these words)
Hebrew a legacy of woe
courtesy self apathy
expanding across his mein kampf
on a broader scale
analogous to predicted fallout from Project 2025,
where resultant mayhem
will trigger widespread societal upheaval
upending progressive socialism
videre licet flick of the wrist veto

At home, I’m polite.
At church, I’m pure light.
Smiling so hard
My cheeks bruise from the weight.

You see my grades,
My Sunday clothes,
My quiet nods
To rules I never chose.

But there’s a me behind the curtain— A me I tuck away.
Flawed, fierce, and uncertain,
Afraid of what you’ll say.

So if you ask, “Who am I?”
I’m a storm in a quiet sky.

I’m not proud of every secret
Or the paths I sometimes take,
But I wish you’d understand
That perfect is just fake.

Growing up with toxic paternity,
I’d corrected with devoted maternity.

My husband left us high and dry
for a new life, but I never knew why.

My daughter would need a new dad,
so I searched for someone to add.

I asked myself at every meeting
if our family he’d be completing.

Would he be a dad who’d be devoted
to guaranteeing she’d be promoted?

Finally, we’d both been blessed.
He passed our paternity test!

He smiled and winked
then raised his square glass
to the ceiling. She observed him
chug the dark amber liquor
down his esophagus to his
stomach then wincing after
he finished.

Her smile corrected
from tantalising to hooking
to one side in self interest.
The love spell wasn't working
anymore.

There's a bloody fly annoying me
Buzzing round my room,
I've hit out with the fly swat,
I've hit out with the broom.
I've hit out with a shovel,
I missed and hit the wife
But I swear I'll get the bastard
And end his useless life.

Watch this space.

I used to be a wise woman, many said a witch.
In blood red moon I’d dance, bare flesh, not a stitch.
I swam the seas with mermaid tale, naked once again,
I loved to wade deep water, and to bathe in cool soft rain.

I stood and stirred the cauldron, in broth I tell this tale,
my sisters by my side, we waited, starving for a male.
It seems men have it easy, are charming with great wit,
but we never met a man who could keep our fires lit.

I know that I will love
Living my life every day
I know that I will suffered
With my sickness
I know that I need to go
Early to bed every
Single nigh
I know that I am not looking forward
To die

“To the Forgotten Poet”

But perhaps— you are not forgotten. Not truly.
Your voice threads the dusk between radio static,
slips between keystrokes, hums in the silence
after a song we don’t know why we love.

Yes, the world dances now with more urgent partners:
with technology, utility, and news cycles that do not mourn or remember.
But still— in quiet corners your longing sprouts
like wild violets in a parking lot crack.