Maybe there’s a moment, still:
the snow falling,
the body stout, lean, and full –
the beer
rustic
and good.
Maybe there’s a moment
still
a 3rd
door, like transphobia –
maybe our options
are opening. Maybe folks need more
than a wink and a nod,
maybe
you can’t replicate good
any more than you can
evil
maybe the tobacco industry
has something to say
maybe the day can fold over me
the stillness roil
like somebody shaking a blanket
on a Monday afternoon
maybe I’ve had enough
of this skullduggery
storm the beaches
somewhere –
wind turbines roll
safely in our heads.
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