Ants in the shower,
where I keep exactly the
least food in the house.

Slipped in the bathtub.
Life flashed before me.
Pleased to report no regrets.

The worse you feel, the better you will look.

On the worst days, go all out:
                                           accessorize
                                     spritz
                               gloss
                    contour
           powder
conceal
the pain yields to ritual
                                       (if you force it hard enough.)
The mind learns what it is taught --
the body is a dumb animal.

(Of course it’s exhausting,
that’s how you know it’s working.)
 
Hopelessness, too, is a sickness.

So don your body armor
and a white rose in your lapel
and pump a fist at the disinterested sky
and pack down the bad air inside
like so much gunpowder.

for Sherman Alexie

My people are dying.
Our brains float turgid in our skulls taking on more and more water 
Our thoughts capsize
and must be fished with a net.

Our chieftain is a man.
Our chieftain is the only person who speaks the language of the outsiders.
Our chieftain is our only hope.
Our chieftain is a rapist.

It is with a heavy head that I must report
that no one is coming to save us
because our chieftain has failed.

No tears are shed
​(all the water is inside us)
At the very least
​we will soon forget.