writer
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You have voted for violence, I have chosen rage, you are allowing for blood to line the streets of your states and your people to wind up in graves, state sponsored funerals, will you pay for those, oh wait, there wasn’t any money for that, only for violence you cannot lead people if there’s no…
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What does it matter if the prices of eggs are lower if you can’t eat them? What does it matter if you have schools if they do not have money to teach in them? What does it matter if women have babies, if all you do is look for ways to shoot them?
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And they call her mad, when she speaks her mind, god forbid a woman say anything, you’ll put her in a grave, and say what a shame, she took her life, wonder what made her that way, you made her that way, when you refused to listen to anything she had to say, she knew…
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This is our American Tax Dollars at work, a pretty penny for the stormtroopers to hurt our friends, family, and neighbors Your tax dollars at work, arresting a 5-year-old in a blue bunny hat, but you wouldn’t vote blue, because you were worried about how a woman would do, maybe because you were worried someone…
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I grew up in a place called Jamul There was a man who sold strawberries I still remember and a place we ate at before all of my school plays where we ate enchiladas I had a pinata at all of my birthdays had friends that did flamenco dancing after school and learned to swear…
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I spent so much time wanting your approval and the thing of it was you weren’t even worthy of mine and I would not understand that until I was free from your existence and you were nothing but dust in the wind no longer making me beg for your affection or time
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The first home I ever had, I had to run from. My mom, my sister, and me got into a car left by my grandmother (who was my father’s mother and knew what he was). No one should ever have to run from their home. For any reason.
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But she called him a bitch oh no, the horror but he called her a bitch, she must have been a terrorist, oh no, she said he attacked her, she must be a lying, oh no, she said he was violent, oh no, I wonder how she died? God forbid a woman say anything, even…
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I’m an asshole I get angry a lot I have lost the ability to be polite Mostly because, I have found that there is complicity in politeness And yet, civility dictates that you should smile when spoken to not judge people and do as you are told I am tired of doing as I am…
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My grandmother was an immigrant. She lived in Newfoundland. Before that, my family was from Ireland. My grandmother was an immigrant. She came from Norway. She took a covered wagon to Montana and then became a nurse in California. My grandfather was the son of an immigrant. His father came from Poland. He had a…