as i open my freezer door

and curse the broken hinge that causes it to stick

i lament it’s aged and how poorly it does the job it’s made for 

after selecting the protein for tonight’s meal

i carefully make sure the door seals shut and put the food in some warm water to thaw enough so i can defrost it

my mind turns, as it often does these days, to the video of a smiling Palestinian child  

sitting proudly in the front of his class

singing at the top of his voice 

in the shade of a collapsed building 

in a field of rubble

and how he grinned through laughing when served a plate of rice and lentils 

and i curse my broken fridge for making me feel anything but grateful 

for this house

for my cadre of comforts 

and again as it has so much this year

my heart weeps for the children of Gaza 

and my mind reels 

and i am quiet 

 there is magic on the air

how could there not be 

all the ashes

although 

the pyre is getting pieced out.

one does not 

value what

one does not 

gatekeep from themselves 

i am miss america 

i am your mom

i am definitely not me

perhaps it all comes back

to find you

playing tracks for wedding guests

quiet and serene 

manifestation as an

art form

go on, get 

i used to want to find an answer

but i can’t recall the question anymore

if the best way to travel is light 

and the goal is to go farther 

than why does the levity make 

everything so much worse 

now i know the timeline

so i know the last time you 

were soft with me

you had already left me

when you saw fit to remember for a moment

that we were to see the end 

together

you had already left 

and i never had a chance 

because you never gave me one 

it’s not particularly funny anymore

but we both keep laughing along

i suppose to keep from crying 

your dramatic age

has brought us to this fire

and watching you try to save 

the parts of our palace 

that mattered the least 

is a lot like wandering through 

the depths of your exploitation 

and i’m left clinging to the laughter

because it’s the only thing 

you seem willing to share 

i am ad hoc ad hominem 

an encyclopedia of

he said she said 

you cannot sit here

harmony korine shouting ¡SEATS TAKEN!

as letterman sobs

argumentum ad populum

as an art form

a diary of realized pain

and unrepentant flesh 

i am a rock

but not an island

more like the third or fourth tier

essential worker support staff

in a pointless cairn at barking springs

mama always said 

watch where you point your finger 

someone may pull it

 a question i have never liked 

but always had a long response for

is 

“What kind of music are you into?”

tonight i finally figured out my answer 

my favorite type of music is 

the music you made

alone or with friends

sure, i like Miles Davis

but i think i’d like to hear about your noise instead

i used to have to pack my bag every morning
to prepare for eventual chaos
patch kits
tubes
a flask of bourbon
cables for devices
a sharp knife
a riot baton

now when i pause to look at the bag i just prepared
i think about the eventual chaos it speaks to
applesauce
a banana 
wet wipes
cables for devices
hand sanitizer,
buzz and woody
the good diapers

the knife is in my pocket now
next to some face masks
and a pair of titanium knuckles
that i've only been relieved to have remembered
one time

i used to have to pack my bag every morning
to prepare for eventual chaos
i still do
but i used to too