We can’t – whatever we try –
Stamp it out. It is still flickering
Above the low ceilings, heavy
With flat fluorescent lights, and buzzing
Below the broken asphalt spewed into
Whole Foods parking lots, and peeking
Between the graffitied metro stops and just-washed
Self-driving, bumper-to-bumper traffic, and shimmering
Before tonight’s delivery-drone package and right
After this next commercial break and somehow even fluttering
In the manicured hands of the poor
Criminals who have only ever been grabbing
At air. It is the reason we reach and
The warning against it,
The blood beneath the skin of the world
And the bleeding life of heaven
Pouring out of every wound.
There is no killing hope.
Neighborhood dogs
May 22, 2026
The city of Frederick has a population of 85,000 people and almost as many dogs. I wish we had fewer people, but as long as
