Dying the slow death of political infection,
it hides within our words
As we try to run, and try to hide,
its plague a constant scourge
Poisoning the water, despoiling our thoughts,
all freedom it commands
Directing the folly, conscripting all joy
—our blindfold it demands
(Dreamsleep: August, 2019)
Heaven Sent
Religion…my writing,
all faith in the pen
My savior the words
—the Muse heaven sent
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
The Price
Is blood,
the price of art
Is death,
the price of truth
A rose,
its thorn uncovered
And love
—the price of youth
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)