I fish the inky depths,
trawling dark waters for the hard words
to tell the hard stories
tossed like trash by the devil and his damned
overboard, where they want them to sink.
Where he sends truth to die,
sends victims to lie
beneath oil-slickened, oil-sickened waters
where false rainbows plume, false promises bloom
at the greedy hands of powerful men.
So many left capsized to sink in the ruin of his reign.

But I’ll start with The Kids.
All the children of the lesser gods.
All The Kids not made in his image.

The Kids wrapped in girl bodies,
sealed transcripts and semen-stained trails
and tales so no one will see nor will hear.

The Kids wrapped in historical faiths, covered in
shrapnel and terra cotta skin and bones and pleas
our nation refuses to see nor to hear.

The Kids trapped in red tape and undocumented
tugs of war between parents who love them and
a government that relegates with reptilian hate.

The Kids tagged with special needs, basic needs,
clawed back with initiatives meant to
educate and feed the least of these.

The Kids of all needs, colors, creeds
returning to schools with clear backpacks, but no clear
game plans nor gun laws to thrive and stay alive.

Kids. So many Kids.
Discarded. Discounted. Dissociated. Detached.
From our eyes and ears and hearts and minds.

Without a thought.
Without a prayer.
Kids.