The ending poem in one of my manuscripts is out as the opening poem in the Fall issue of The MacGuffin, and I’m very honored. “What does hope look like?”

Trump is promising new steps to tackle homelessness and crime in Washington President Donald Trump is promising new steps to tackle homelessness and crime in Washington. That's leading the city’s Democratic mayor to voice concerns about the potential use of the National Guard to patrol the streets in the nation’s capital.

apnews.com/article/trum... says he's placing Washington police under federal control and activating the National Guard

Dear ChatGPT: Can I control but not govern my children?

Can’t you just feel all the winning American is doing?

When Superman comes out next week just remember that once again the public will be captivated by the story of an illegal alien destroying an evil billionaire's attempt to control the planet

Home from a wonderful trip with just the wife to find my latest elegy in @pleiadesmag.bsky.social amongst many other fine pieces. I’ve posted two other poets whose work me on first read. #poetry #litmag

Ask Your Senators to Support Funding for Celiac Disease Research We have an important opportunity for our advocates to reach out to their U.S. Senate offices today to encourage action to support federal funding for celiac disease research. Please join us in our eff...

Ask Your Senators to Support Funding for Celiac Disease Research www.congressweb.com/CDF/17?frame...

Pete Buttigieg is a master of deft communication, breaking down misunderstood ideas into accurate but easily digestible protein bars for the masses.

In short, I want @petebuttigieg.bsky.social to explain the end of Lost to me.

Not sure where this is going, though, yeah, pretty fucking sure. Pretty not pretty as my daughter would say, kinda shapeless and no funeral please, no roses or potted begonias. Please donate to trolling for fish instead of netting, to Cornell Lab of Ornithology. When I stack breaths, I'm reminded it ceases— that's the Hurricane Debby of this thing: weakening diaphragmatic storms. Inhalations de-escalating. My nineteen-year-old self didn't imagine this. I was learning bird calls, hermit thrush and song sparrow. Keeping a list, but also wandering the forest counting the decades forward, a human lite like alpine snow that seems it will never melt.

From “Self-Elegies” by Martha Silano 💔

www.ironhorsereview.com/shop

www.ironhorsereview.com/shop

As a father & native Ohioan, Tamir Rice’s murder at the hands of police is, for me, our contemporary symbol for the ills of US culture. I’m honored and happy to finally share this poem, part of @ironhorselitrev Unlawful Acts (26.2). Please buy&read this magazine & support the amazing list of writers

yep, no one has figured out yet that the only way to actually get attention on the issues that matter is to use our existing addictions to shift focus in that direction

i mean, i have, but i'm not head of the Department of Education, so i can't contract our celebrities

Five years ago today, I wrote my second (and still favorite) pandemic poem after reading of stories of mass death. It was originally published in the online UK’s Panorama: The Journal of Travel, Place, and Nature (panoramajournal.org)

🔑 under-discussed point — why they were on signal:

Imagine being in Moscow and reading highly classified messages over a commercial app that US forces are about to strike Yemen. Even without an authorized person in this chat, that alone rises all red flags.

The line between sloppiness and malice is quite thin. Absolutely mind blowing.

The first pandemic poem I wrote. Sharing for the five year anniversary of quarantine.

it's almost like, and bear with me on this, public opinion might move on these issues if there was a whole network of politicians, pundits, and aligned media doing everything in their power to highlight the abuses and unpopular aspects of the deportation regime instead of triangulating on it

〽️ Go Blue 〽️

Murphy: "If we continue to observe norms, if we continue to engage in business as usual, this democracy could be gone. I don't think we have a year to save American democracy. I think the way the president is acting ... puts out democracy at immediate risk."

Trump and Musk are basically trying to deskill America:
1) kill all white-collar jobs and replace them with AI
2) kill universities
3) use tariffs to turn the U.S. into an economic island manufacturing, oil and ag hub
4) empty the cities
5) push men into manual labor & women back into the kitchen

Sun Peels The Skin Off A Barn: a poem describing the way the sun shines on old barns and is both beautiful and destructive.

Perhaps my favorite poem I wrote for Hearsay (2014), originally chosen by Claudia Emerson for The Louisville Review:

this one always gets me for some reason

Next up is false equivalency. We have covered ad hominem, anecdote, oversimplification, either/or. Need to cover red herring, straw man, correlation is not causation, appeal to tradition.

My hope is that by going through 1/class as part of larger daily lessons, that they’ll start for them in life.

My 1st-sem comp students started 3rd essay before spring break. They have to write ethical argument essays, focusing on why a human rights violation they chose to study all semester is a violation. Now, each day I integrate common logical fallacies relative to how socially discuss world conflicts.

The Venn diagram for people
who fall for the Nigerian Prince
email scam and those supporting
the illegal South African immigrant
looking through their private data
on Federal servers
is one circle. ⭕️

Migratory blue sky.

a small hamster is standing on its hind legs next to a water bottle ALT: a small hamster is standing on its hind legs next to a water bottle

American prosperity for anyone not born rich.

FRANK LIMA Alligator of Happiness I ride the subway with all these bare-breasted faces. To my eternal discredit, They remind me of my five-minute life, Pounding against my heart. My fantasy is I am a loitering hunter Of nudes who ride the subways, With eyes that crack the light of men who stare. The nudes are beautiful white ants in the darkness, Blowing coins and leaves at me. My technique is familiar and simple conversation, Rhyming bad words that have little meaning. They accumulate like cities in Iceland. The words are flames and I am their lycanthropy. The riders pretend I do not exist. But I eventuate like the law of someone's Humanity I will never cheat. These are hungry old habits, The voyeurs of childhood. We allow to run our lives as adults. Still, I wait for them, Like the alligator of happiness, With a bouquet of senile flowers. They finally appear like birds from the Nile. I have kept this appointment all my life. 4.15.99

Frank Lima

rapid unscheduled *disassembly