Write a poem about the dried flowers hanging from the curtain rod.
Write your mother, your sister’s ex-boyfriend, your hemorrhoids.
Write one honest politician you’ve shaken hands with; then
write Trump. Write about the eleventh grade American
History teacher who wanted to fuck you.
Write the zoology teacher who raped your best friend. Write
developers from Miami and New York raping the estuary.
Write your history; write that fear at 2 a.m. the night
your son overdosed. Write tile beneath your knees.
Write rats in the kitchen, raccoons in the roof, your dog
over the fence, gone all night.
Write the phone not ringing. Write your first fuck,
your latest one. Write the student you wish would just shut
the fuck up and write one paragraph. Write the one who scares you
& the girl you wish somebody would say hello to. Write the gay boy
your heart breaks for. Write punching the wall of your bedroom at
sixteen. Write solutions you dream before they slip into the fetid
air. Write a poem.