All Quiet

All Quiet

Blue raincoats
like shawls draped
Over shanties,
An inflection point for the generals
Who have for decades fought co-option of the 969
By liberal arts journals,

House Arrest
Your father’s colonial struggle
Has been amended to serve
In the trenches
Infested with secession,

Naf Nodi culls
Observation towers
Sandbags gunned Type-81
Jihad: a transaction,
Un-licensed brokers
Federal grants
Issuing annexation

The watering hole is
Contoured as a red light district
With the UNHCR’s
Revolving door policy of look don’t touch
For locals after a day of swindling Reagan Democrats

The Sequel
Longest stretch of tombs on earth,
A buffet of deck chairs
Umbrella peddlers
And coconuts for tourists
To etiolate their quota of
Third world unforeseens

Photograph: Christophe Archambault/AFP


Community of Hope

Community of Hope

Dispatcher scrambles slum,

Suburb reports dress code violation,

Scanner like a tambourine syncopating the beat,

9mm kisses holster,

Trigger moonlights law and order,

Cruiser on the prowl,

Skid marks engrave lanes,

Skull to pavement, flexicuffs,

Writhe on bonnet, pepper spray,

Water cannon numbs quotas

Barbed barricades, salve courtesy of brass,

Cartridges smear blush,

Chucked over the shields,


Fast track non-lethal,

Ammunition, the social contract,

Avant guard,  the new slogans with bullet holes,

White noise to reruns of Mati o Manush

Crossfires hold conferences,

Fourth Column drools

Front-Feature, a balanced piece

Quoting press secretary

Pall-bearers mute sirens.

Photograph: AP




I wanted it to be 270
Four steps forward every amputation,
My rental at your park
For your 1:00am gluttony,
Your cum on my tits
The moleskin at the brewery.

Arm in pocket
Your donation at the gala,
I’ll be your bag of bones
To drop in the basket-case,

No lipstick on the collar
Home along the whisky tracks,
Tough slog at work
I am gonna turn in.

Photograph: Christopher Doyle, Mark Lee Ping Bin/In the Mood for Love

Meritocracy and Grind

Meritocracy and Grind

Filibuster of secretary,
lap dog,
out of order elevator;

your blinds,
demarcations of
literacy drive,
Honor roll
Prenup at the registrar’s;
Elbow grease for every roommate burnt out on Ritalin

Tagore saved you from millennials,
So your children are nightclubs in suicide nests;
Family funds fuel bombers during the national parade;
Plaques are “Employee of the Month” when hot-mics infiltrate fire exits.
You enjoy funding documentaries about the next slumlord transitioning to app-designer,

The office is IKEA with an Espresso machine.
Her takeout stops appetizing.
We are to increase efficiency.
Discover the internet of things.
Reduce costs.
No handouts
How are we?
Take care.
And this how it was when we were up,

Mannequins weren’t guillotined,
Husbands sanctioned choke holds,
Reserve Armies expired on the shelves of motherhood,

Photograph: Lucy Rugirello/ Los Angeles Maritime Museum



Macau claws digging into my forearm
She started wearing contacts in the 6th grade
As an 11th birthday present her mother
Parlayed into a deferral on divorce proceedings.

Syrup weeping over scrambled eggs
The answering machine you promised
You’d use after you graduated into a career transcribing
Shit smeared northern Irish Maze has fallen into disrepair.

8 hour trimmings and fond
You are a fossil in an unmarked grave
Nightcap in the hands of an alcoholic

fostering co-worker grit.