because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse


six paces.
the length
of the rope
left me to hang
the remains of my
yellowed cinderblock walls
canvas for narration
of unhappy endings.
inset fluorescence
glared down; i
glowered up,
voiceless fists
on concrete bars
in subtly shouldered

they told me later
it was nothing, just…
justice, this:
a little
in a little
losing life
a little

at a time.

this poem also published @ Poets for Human Rights

3 responses

  1. Heavy..Dig your latest and happy to have more of your work..
    I miss you when you’re not around

    November 16, 2009 at 2:09 pm

    • thanks, bindo. it’s great to know you’re not just out there writing into the void–that somebody’s actually listening


      November 18, 2009 at 4:06 am

  2. powerful…
    very powerful

    November 16, 2009 at 2:18 pm


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