beware

careful now!
if you cross the poet
on the wrong evening

you may end up
in her notebooks
and that is no place
for a sour face to be

careful now!
if you cross the poet
on the right evening

you may end up 
in her skin / once yr there
not even sweat 
can get you out

careful now!
if you cross the poet 
on this evening 

Untitled Fear Poem

I am not afraid to grieve any longer
I am not afraid to cry for those I never met
tears fall for the dead 
they are my weapons
against the killers and their accomplices 

i was/is/remains
interrogator of my own interiority
afraid 
wrong, or worse, right
wrong, or worse, write
wrong, or worse, verse

care for a loop_de_loop?
rite makes mite
mite makes life
life makes rite
right?