All joy should be brief

And unequal to

The hard headlines

Hardened hearts will not abide

The soft bed of inertia


And when the loud lash

Of man’s inhumanity hits

We’ll bear it in solidarity

Take up the fight readily

Against the ebola of greed, fear, hatred.

Fight the idea

That a life of dreams

await to be plucked

From suburban hangars of desire


We will not drive our fancy cars

Through the ghettos of the homeless

Fearing the hollow men who stand

At the intersections of history and early death

– Death by the popping sounds of 1000 door locks

Protecting soft lives 


Joy should be brief to prepare

For the fall from grace’s rim

From the summit of kindness

Where the air is too thin

The Moment

I’ve been prompted:


Live in the moment

But joy seeps

In from the past

Forgetful of

The moment

What joy is the moment

When I hear someone’s


Of the dead

Wild-life with which

My cats treasure me?

What joy is the moment

At the bottom?

What joy is the moment

Before another


I am suspicious:

Joyful moments


Under the sun,

The moon,

In the humus

Of life?

Sadly, it will not be

Joy that carries me off