Tallulah

her penny tongue
don’t cost a thing,
she’s used to discounting
the boys in blue, black, or green.
Tallulah is a tower,
her arms hang at her sides,
slumped like bags of cotton candy
at the county fair.

I put in my two cents
when she asks “why can’t we
just build a wall?” and watch her
face turn into pruned bits.
her bitter lips smack
and screw themselves up
into a forgotten army.
she’s marching ahead
but no one’s stupid enough to
follow a one-track mind.

there are starving children
across the globe,
bellies plump from gas,
little knees buckle from
reflex taps, but Tallulah
wants to shut off the water supply.
she says, “they have rivers.
let them siphon water from
the dirt on which they walk.”
I have to steady my right hand,
it itches to slap her,
but I ain’t never been
cramped up in a jail cell
and I don’t wanna be.

Tallulah sits on her high horse
pressing the curls of her
inflated head.
the townspeople await her
signal to celebrate a year
without plagues, but Tallulah
ignores them.
one by one they die,
her authority cripples right
before her eyes.

Tallulah could’ve changed
the world.
she could’ve changed her ways.
But Tallulah was a
damn fool.

in the fog

haiku-lune chain

foggysunrise
Foggy Sunrise|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

the foggy sunrise
awakens a dewy morn
heaven on this earth

captured by its light
sun-filled clouds
rain down on our heads

an autumn morning
cold as ice
freezes our quick steps

bruised, blue fingertips
covered in cotton-thin gloves
pockets are their home

a new day bursts through
the sun lives
it breathes once again