Ran out of steam there, for a bit. Poems will probably not be daily on a regular basis. It's exhausting dealing with this rolling catastrophe. But here's one for today:
He thinks he can starve us,
silence us...
with his budget,
not realizing we existed
before, outside, without
that paltry patronage,
so stingy compared to others
elsewhere
who know our worth.
You do not give us permission
with your dollars.
You only make our efforts
easier,
not enable us.
We will make art with
or without your approval
because if we do not
the fire inside consumes us.
Far better, now, that we turn that fire
on you.
–March 16, 2017, Harlem, New York
