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Against ambition

A poem.

January 2, 2014

Against ambition

Little does she know day by day

I, too, am learning how to crawl.

Lesotho makes Trump’s polo shirts. He could destroy their garment industry.

Beckoned to the joy that glistens

in her gums. My sweet Penelope.

And though I try to hide it, this

leash around my neck that ends

at something or someone always

What the sentence in Breonna Taylor’s death says about police reform under Trump

somewhere else, when she starts

with a smile from the far, far side of the carpet – just as happy to retreat in the effort to advance –

she reaches me at last and reaches

out to put her finger on a button.