by Briana Olivares, Contributor


Bowel blackening

Minute to minute screen-status updates. News flash.

Hearts sinking, invaded with fears, are in a virtual world.

Have to cut down the intangible brain chemistry switches.

Divert the flow of addictive unreal.

Grab the machete!

Soil > Scroll.



On my way to work I

wanted to embrace a woman

walking across the street

just to share that kind of warm, human moment.



On my way home in the dark


Full Moon above.

My head turned up always.

Stars and drones.

I break a silence to say “hello” to someone across the street.

No reply.



Unable to untangle any kind of knowledge

of my feelings.

Nailing coffins with the ambiguity we professed to love.

Contradictions swarm in the shadow of Facism.

What about owning a slave labor phone?

Eating the profits off farm workers’ breaking backs?

Does a sign in the air move anything?

My sideyard garden is managable but

is there ever enough of me

to be meaningful?

Is planting a seed as potent as before?



This is the uncertainty

invading all levels of mind.

Not to say it won’t ever return but,

today I day dream of red clover cover cropping,

towering sunflower patch,

and magenta amaranth sprouts.