I’ve got a new poem published in a publication called Blood Lotus. Go see it on the link, otherwise, below is the poem…typed during a lull in a bartending shift on my coworker’s laptop computer:
My toddler son is protest coughing+
foot stomp = unknown words: “But I wanna dance
on the table until I fall on my head and cry!”
Until parenting protesters didn’t cough.
Hearing this frequency I remember.
As a curious boy, being
below deck in the neighbor family’s
beached backyard boat
with the neighbor family’s
and didn’t know
It was the wordless protest
of the 7 year old girl
to the 8 year old boy