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lore

just a man

drag off a cigarette smirk

a walking shell game

snake in a can

so backwards in life

one questions

reports of his death

yet

he would crookedly smile

calling it

legend

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activism Americana Art cemeteries childhood chronology crime death destruction digital photography epidemeology Europe family geneology history muse non-fiction religion reproductive rights rituals shooting stars society Southern Gothic The British Royal Crown theatre travel writing Urban Legends war weddings

Pocahontas

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Abelard and Heloise activism Americana animals arts astrolabe astronomy baseball writing biology cartography cemeteries chronology comfort dance death destruction deviance domestic violence education epidemeology Europe fairy tales family feminism festivities forensics fucking funerals geneology girl stuff happiness history holidays Hunter S. Thompson iconography journalism local color love poetry medicine muse museums non-fiction Ohio ornithology pandemics performance poetic theory punk red hair in the morning, fucker grab a cab relationship studies religion religious studies reproductive rights rituals science seasons shooting stars society sociology Southern Gothic The British Royal Crown tomes travel writing Urban Legends war weddings womens studies writing

she kept her honor

so he took her like an animal

but my father’s ghost wept

so she went to the men

like a good American

good people don’t want to believe

in visionaries good or bad

especially when you have red clay mud

starved stabbed scabbed over and over

on your grandmother’s dress from being raped just like her

from ft. Sumter to Wounded Knee

he’d never seen that color red come out of a living fertility statue

my veil is torn

the dog is dead

the natives have resumed their drumbeat

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Abelard and Heloise activism affectation Americana Anne Boleyn Art astrolabe astronomy atheism baseball writing battle beauty belief books California cartography cemeteries childhood Christmas chronology cinema civility coffee comedy comfort communication confections crime criminal behavior dance death desserts destruction deviance digital art digital photography divinity domestic violence ecology education electoral process English epicuriosity epidemeology Europe fairy tales feminism festivities film forensics fucking funerals furniture geneology geography girl stuff good reads government government and a lack thereof gratitude happiness health Hell history holidays horror human behavior humanity humor Hunter S. Thompson iconography infidelity insects Jazz journalism Kentucky kindness kinetics Lent life literature local color love love poetry mindfulness mortuary sciences mourning muse mythology nature nightmares non-fiction ornithology pandemics papyrus parenting Paris performance photography physics poetic theory poetry politics pop culture produce psychology public broadcasting publishing punk puppies reading red hair in the morning, fucker grab a cab relationship studies relationships religion religious studies reproductive rights rituals romance science science writing self-care self-love sex sexism sexuality shitty shit shooting stars Short Stories slang society sociology Southern Gothic Southern Living suicide technology thanatology the arts The British Royal Crown theatre theism theology tomes traditions travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice war waste weddings womens studies words writing

Ha!! Me, too…

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid0z6wE5HbvqNR3e95MtKuSoizDLWB4WQy8ZjS2t8TEJqVyeZJLzaZutYfqzP29mKP5l&id=100086436902392

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Abelard and Heloise activism Americana animals Anne Boleyn astrolabe astronomy baseball writing battle beauty belief bibliophilia biology books botany California cartography cemeteries childhood Christmas chronology cinema civility coffee comedy comfort communication confections corsets crime criminal behavior dance death desserts destruction deviance digital art digital photography divinity domestic violence drawing ecology education electoral process English epicuriosity epidemeology Europe fairy tales family fashion fauna feminism festivities fiction film food forensics fucking funerals furniture geneology geography girl stuff good reads government government and a lack thereof gratitude Halloween happiness health Hell history holidays human behavior iconography Jazz journalism kindness kinetics Lent life literature local color love poetry medicine mindfulness mortuary sciences mourning muse museums Music mythology nature non-fiction Ohio ornithology painting pandemics papyrus parenthood parenting Paris performance photography physics poetic theory politics pop culture produce psychology public broadcasting publishing punk puppies reading red hair in the morning, fucker grab a cab relationship studies relationships religious studies reproductive rights rituals romance science science writing seasons self-care self-love sex sexism sexuality shitty shit shooting stars Short Stories slang society sociology sociopathology Southern Gothic Southern Living suicide technology thanatology the arts The British Royal Crown theatre theism theology tomes traditions travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice war waste weddings women words writing

Poof* Take MY water

https://youtu.be/eg2Kw1jIXOw

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Americana analysis art atheism behavior belief childhood comfort death divinity domestic violence geneology local color love poetry religion rituals self-love sociopathology Urban Legends vice war writing

old time religion

my parents were screaming

at each other

in Baptist curses

doors slamming

phones torn asunder

sounds of a home splitting apart at the roofbeams

my father throwing the floor model television out the front door

and one frightened sister

smuggling me out a bedroom window to another protective sister

that may not have all happened on the same night

it was so long ago &

this wasn’t constant

not your average weeknight at the Young’s house

but it’s always the first time

that matters most

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art chronology deviance human behavior literature nature Ohio poetry punk religion sociology sociopathology Southern Gothic Uncategorized Urban Legends war words writing

war by candlelight

amidst the curiosities

of my yet to be packed up

roll top desk

i found a diamond bracelet

you had given me

hiding in one of

the apothecary drawers

it reminded me immediately

how you waged

war by candlelight

instinctively i pulled the pin

on that gauche grenade

lobbing the tacky bauble

into the goose shit encircled pond

behind the house

your weaponry

is not welcome here

anymore

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Americana art books comfort family food furniture happiness history holidays life love muse Ohio painting parenthood poetry psychology rituals sex traditions Uncategorized war weddings writing

this house has a history

 

i put on some water for tea

then decided to mop the floors

of our new little nest

before the furniture gets carried in

before the rest of our lives happen

Murphy’s Oil Soap

water and sunshine into a bucket

carried through the echoing emptiness

of what will be

over original hardwood

placed there in 1941

i love to clean

the ritual of it

i write in my thoughts as i work

images painting themselves

into spaces around my gentle humming

spreading wet across the grain

seeing hands that mopped this floor

before me

wives husbands

fathers mothers

lovers and

put-upon teenagers

oh this house

has a history

built the year

the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor

it’s all still there

nailed down memories

layers of time entombed in wax

someone stood in that living room and heard

we dropped the bomb

we landed at Normandy

of a flag raised in Iwo-Jima

Kennedy was dead

Vietnam was a lost cause only good

for folded flags being handed to weeping mothers

Nixon was a crook

Reagan and John Lennon had been shot

the Berlin wall had fallen

i heard first steps

crying babies

crying widows

joyous laughter

say cheese

wine glasses clinking together

realizing with a smile

this floor is mine

the foundation of a family

and i will love it

then

the teapot

began to whistle

 

 

 

 

 

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Americana analysis art battle death government history humanity love Uncategorized war

war

if mothers’ tears
could build palaces
the whole of humanity
would live as kings

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activism Americana art battle destruction electoral process government government and a lack thereof history journalism poetry pop culture punk sociology Uncategorized war

dad’s gonna be pissed

my generation had no great war

until the towers fell

and the government invented one

then we were told

it’s not our fight

beyond the departures gate

at the airport

our struggle is removing our shoes

and grabby TSA agents

we never grew a victory garden

we never salvaged all our metal to make bullets

or watched the soldierly  Vietnam death toll

march across the bottom of our television screens

we were raised by Atari systems, Pop Rocks, Sweet Valley High books,

and Bob Barker’s skinny microphone

so forgive me, my fellow

generationally x’d out americans

if i don’t give a shit

about your opinions on the upcoming election