Monday, February 2, 2026

You Are the Salt of the Earth


                                    (AP Photos, John Locher)

A chill wind whistles
through the ice-covered streets.
Salt melts ice, you know,
and those who show up
are surely salty folk ~
well-seasoned by
witness and worry and woe.

They know where they stand,
and how to walk confidently
in slippery conditions,
these unlikely warriors who brandish
salt shakers as swords and
whistling warnings as shields.

A voice cries out
from the frigid alley wilderness:

    Heaven and Hell are here, now!
    You choose.
    Faithful-freeing or fear-filled freezing?

A brown-skinned preacher,
small of stature and mighty of word,
emerges slowly, donning a parka
and taking to the streets.
He has always loved the streets
and the people who dwell there.

They tried to ice him out once before, you know,
way back when he dared to open his arms
to the outcasts and the shamed and the strangers.
Today they just freeze his words into
an icily hardened hollow of hate,
cloaking them in diamond-studded prayer-farce
as they plot their latest chaotic cruelty.

He is so tired of being misquoted.

Weeping as he blesses the bodies, he speaks out clearly:

    Blessed are the peacemakers.
    Blessed are you when they insult you and
    persecute you and falsely say all kinds of
    evil against you because of

    me.

The words bounce off the ground as 
his face slams into the ice.
Shackled and cuffed, he is led away since
he is, of course, undocumented
and saying dangerous things.
Faithful whistles fill the air as
he calls out to his friends:

    If they do these things in the green wood,
    what will happen in the dry?

    DON'T LET THEM! DON'T LET THEM!
    SPILL THE SALT!

Thursday, January 29, 2026

Grandma's Green Card

This is for everyone who thinks that ICE's current cruelty and chaos have nothing to do with them. "If they would just follow the rules, there wouldn't be a problem," they say. That is simply not true.

Flashback to 1952 and a simple mistake. 

Our grandmother, Rose Riconosciuto, was a legal resident of the United States. In 1920, she entered the country from Italy at Ellis Island, 24 years old, newly wed, and three months pregnant with my mother. I suspect she didn't share that detail with the officers there, or she might have been denied entry into the country. Anyway, she was a green card holder for most of her long life, until her kids arranged for her to become a U.S. citizen on her 100th birthday.

In 1952, she apparently forgot to register as a resident alien. She was threatened with prosecution, due to this oversight; however, when our grandfather, who was a naturalized citizen, sent in a sworn statement, explaining the situation and committing to being more diligent in the future, prosecution was deferred. It was a reasonable decision, based on her long, productive residency in the U.S., her strong family ties, and her acknowledgement that she had made a mistake. See letter below.


Rose's alien registration from 1942:


Just imagine how this would have played out in our current dystopian reality. Would masked ICE thugs have bashed in her door? Dragged her out of her home in handcuffs? Detained her when she came in for her appointment? Imprisoned her where her family couldn't find her? Sent her back to a country she'd left 32 years earlier? If you watch the news at all, you know that none of these scenarios is exaggerated, and things like this are happening every day, to people in very similar situations. 

We are a nation with a complicated, often cruel, history. We are also a nation of opportunity, ideals, and hope for immigrants, a place where many come to try to build a new life. That is my family's story, and it is the story of so many of us. Stand up. Listen to the stories of the immigrants of 2026, not the lies being told about them. Speak out for the rule of law. Speak out for the ancestors, many of whom endured the same slurs we hear directed at immigrants today. 

We must not turn away. Stand up. Speak out.

Tuesday, January 20, 2026

Her Dog Was in the Car



Sweet old dog, she called me
whenever I snuggled up
close to her and my boy.
She promised me a walk
when we got home
and maybe a belly rub, too.
She gives the best belly rubs.
I love her and I don't know where she is.

                        Fuckin' bitch, he said.

I don't know why they were so angry.
My mom never stops smiling
and if I whine just right
she always gives me treats.
Why were their faces covered?
Why were they yelling?
She said she wasn't mad at them.
Why did the big one try to hurt us?
I think maybe he did hurt my mom
because she hasn't come back.

                        Fuckin' bitch, he spewed.

I was glad we were leaving
because I was scared.
I cowered and tried to hide.
I cried and kept thinking that
if I just stayed real still,
we could go on that walk
when we got home.
Belly rub-treats-walk-sweet old dog-
I'm not mad at you-pop!-POP!-POP!

                        Fuckin' bitch, he shot.

Gone.
I wish she would come back
to take me on that walk.

Sweet old dog, she called me...

In memory of Renee Good, murdered by ICE on January 7, 2026.
May her memory be a blessing.

Saturday, November 1, 2025

For my Sister (Día de Muertos 2025)


I know you better in death
        I do
than ever I knew you in life
        I didn't
watching your fretful freefall into
rose-petaled fantasy
        I did
as from afar you watched me too,
gazing through a sickening 
pink-cloudy haze that
enveloped you,
consumed you, 
and ultimately spit you out
        It did.

I place your picture on the ofrenda,
surprised by tenderness I so rarely
felt for you in life
        I didn't.

Your glorious baby-self smiles
across the years,
all golden-curled, innocent and 
cherished,
so cherished,
surrounded by those who loved you
into being
        They did.

I light the candle and set aside
the searing memory of your
struggle to stay when you
were never really here
        You weren't

to wonder
WHY

Saturday, September 6, 2025

No Kings


The disembodied digital voice 
on the light rail 
scolds with bitchy abandon,
telling me no less than five times -
over the course of fifteen minutes -
that I should be respectful,
refrain from eating,
and - for God's sake -
keep my grubby feet off the seat!

Oh, how I wish I were holding a gloriously gooey sandwich,
devouring it with greasy gusto as the slippery secret sauce 
drips slowly down my chin and onto . . . 
As it is, sitting defiantly cross-legged on the seat
will have to do.

Principled resistance -
in all its forms -
is such a buzz.

_____________________________

No Kings


La voz mecanizada en el tren
regaña con mal humor desenfrenado,
diciéndome nada menos que cinco veces
durante quince minutos
que debería ser respetuosa,
abstenerme de comer,
y - por el amor de Dios -
mantener mis pies mugrientos
fuera del asiento.

Ah, ojalá tuviera un sandwich gloriosamente pegajoso,
devorándolo con gusto grasoso mientras la salsa secreta 
goteara lentemente en mi barbilla y . . . 
Como va la cosa, sentándome desafientemente
de piernas cruzadas en el asiento
bastará por ahora.

La resistencia de principios -
en todas sus formas -
es tan gratificante. 






Saturday, June 21, 2025

Awake

        After Rumi



The summer sun has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.

There roams a devastation that can set your bravery afire.
Don't go back to sleep.

Soul-layers will char and slowly drift away,
leaving you naked and lonely and oh, so alive.
Don't go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really need,
with a deep breath of curiosity-spark
to behold what is ~ and what isn't.
Don't go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the
doorsill where the two worlds touch ~
a wobbly place with no handholds.
The prayer shawl drapes as 
your knees hit the floor and you
return ~ return ~ return
to be carried, 
sun-kissed and shimmery,
through the round and open door 
that is waiting for you,
brightly lit and fully dilated, 
inviting you to push yourself on out.

Here is the original Rumi poem:

The breeze at dawn has
secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really need.
Don't go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth
across the doorsill where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.


________________________

Despiert@s

        Inspirado por Rumi


El sol de verano guarda secretos para ti.
No te vuelvas a dormir.

Anda suelta una devastación que puede
prender fuego a tu valentía.
No te vuelvas a dormir.

Las capas del alma quemarán y lentamente
flotarán a la deriva,
dejándote desnuda y sola y tan viva.
No te vuelvas a dormir.

Debes pedir lo que realmente necesitas,
respirando una chispa de curiosidad para
contemplar lo que es ~ y lo que no es.
No te vuelvas a dormir.

La gente va y viene a través del umbral que
conecta los dos mundos ~
un lugar tambaleante y sin manijas.
El chal de oración te cubre mientras
tus rodillas caen al suelo y
regresas ~ regresas ~ regresas
para ser llevado,
besado por el sol y reluciente,
por la puerta redonda y abierta
que te espera,
alumbrada y completamente dilatada,
invitándote a empujarte hacia fuera.


Aqui está el poema original de Rumi:

La brisa del alba guarda secretos para ti.
No te vuelvas a dormir.

Debes pedir lo que realmente necesitas.
No te vuelvas a dormir.

La gente va y viene a través del umbral
que conecta los dos mundos.
La puerta es redonda y está abierta.
No te vuelvas a dormir.

Saturday, March 22, 2025

Mercy



For Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde

    Everything faded into mist.
    the past was erased,
    the erasure was forgotten,
    the lie became truth.
                                George Orwell, 1984

Some say love it or leave it.
I prefer to stay and fight.
Even as bloodthirsty gods of
perverse patriotic passion
demand - require -
blood sacrifice.

Let her bleed.
Let them bleed.
Let them be afraid as we
burn it to the ground and
recreate it in our own image.

Even as our domestic mirror warps,
shooting back a twisty-rotten reflection
of truth-death,
an amnesia of conscience.

Even as the blubbery god of 
vicious vitriol
slithers back into power,
smothering his victims with
slippery, slanderous slop.

Even as 47 drops of blood splatter on
the bundles of money the billionaire offers.
47 drops of blood will get you a nice new wallet
filled with Monopoly money.
We all know who owns Park Place and 
what they intend to use it for. 

Even as Jesus weeps under
a diamond-studded crucifix.
There a predatory rogues gallery circles up
to surround the woman who is slowly bleeding out.
Cloaked in robes of brownly-reeking double-think,
they spout the twisty truths of the tyrant as
she draws her final breath.

Respect life!
War is peace!
Freedom is slavery!
Love is hate!
Pillaging thugs are heroes!

Let her die.
Let them die.
Let us make them afraid as we burn it all to the ground and
recreate it in our holy image.

But the preacher-woman is not afraid.
She cries MERCY
for the multitudes who are.
Jesus wipes his tears.

Small of stature but
fierce in spirit
she glides past them,
speaking softly and carrying a big stick.
(A lady bishop is probably not what Teddy Roosevelt had in mind,
but there she is.)
Fearless ~
though her stomach churns.
Strong ~
though her legs are suddenly rubbery.
Forceful ~
for she knows who she is:
an open channel for her good friend,
that kindly, brown-skinned prophet from Galilee who
is so weary of being misquoted.

He, who famously said:

Do not judge, and you will not be judged.
Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned.
Pardon, and you shall be pardoned.
Give, and it shall be given to you.
Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over...
For the measure you measure with will be
measured back to you.

Woke pabulum, they cry!

Jesus, who learned about irony from
his streetwalker pals,
now starts to laugh as
the bishop slyly grins and
rolls her eyes.
They are not afraid.
They know who they are
and how conversion works,
how to play the long game even
in the cruelest of times,
when a good-troubling arc of justice
eludes.

    A spider's web is stronger than it looks. 
    Although it is made of thin, delicate strands, 
    the web is not easily broken.
                                            E.B. White, Charlotte's Web

Jesus, who's always loved to spin tales,
is not surprised when he spots whimsical spiders
weaving wakeful wonder-signs
just above the tyrant's head
and out the windows
and down the street
and around the nation
and beyond...

For Jesus, who's always cherished kids and their stories,
recognizes that it's Charlotte's namesakes who keep this
wickedly wild web of many colors going,
year after year.
They spin without pause for
they know their time is short,
these wily weavers of truth-telling who
keep hope alive while saving
a few good folks along the way.

Jesus, who's always loved a good laugh,
encourages the Charlottes to
weave the lewdly ludicrous lacquered locks
of the doddering despot into
silken missives of hope.
Their legs and spirits fly.

SOME BISHOP
the strands proclaim across his forehead.

SOME RESISTANCE
the baby-fine hairs on the top of his head announce as
the arachnid artisans skirt the substantial bald spot.

The tyrant's toadies scramble to put the obscene 
hairdo back in order but
they are not quick enough to block the
wispy, wondrous messages winging forth into 
an awakening web of worldwide proportions,
straight to the hearts of those who
are just about to give up.
There's no stopping them now.

And Jesus, 
who's always loved a good challenge,
smiles.