It’s Not Right


Hitch-hiker looks resigned,

and yet his eyes raise as I lead my line

of cars

My destination is up on the left

I don’t want to contribute to his false-hope of a lift

I want to help him feel less pain

Walking down the car-passing lane…

By turning on my blinker

The on-coming pick-up also blinks an opposite turn

As they begin their hard curve

I make my own swerve


Foot stomps itself on the break

Leaving just enough room for the asshole freak

 who was in a rush

and brushed

and rushed

 around the truck turner, on the shoulder.

Not seeing me

not noticing me

  in the car using that shoulder

 for a legal turn.

They squirted, gunning, as my rubber burned

We just missed crashing


That’s not right!

That’s not even close to right

That’s not fucking right

 in any fucking universe…

I am trying to have my day

But in a safer way

Following the rules of the road

My heart pounds as I pull around

 into my white lined slot

What a scare I just got!

The hitch-hiker saw it all

I want to call

To him to testify

My brother

My fellow sufferer

Dodging disappointment

You almost saw my appointment with death spring up and swerve right by

Oh my!


It’s not right.

Not fucking right.

That now in the night

 I am feeling it…

And ALL the not right things in my day


The old trembly man

 we plan

To keep him warm

 And fed

But he falls out of bed.


It’s bad when the boy is from a family

that makes him so mad,

he beats back on the pain

and they fear him,

they stick him behind closed walls

Say “we don’t want him”

You take him.

Yet we can’t

He’ll push over trembly man

He goes back home in the end.


What horror will happen?

Slow motion feelings boil and press everyone into another explosion

People like me who could be giving love to their own families are tethered to their phone


Don’t call me, I had to say. I’m tired.

I’m tired from meetings today

Meeting about the exploding boy.

Meetings about the super sad she-man

Who swallowed a bottle of pills

And needs a place to go

 because his family also says no.


You take him Laurie

You fix him Laure

You save him Laurie


And I do save, and keep people from the street,

Coaxing, supporting, helping

But don’t call me tonight

Don’t call me tomorrow

I can’t come.


I’m sad! I’m mad.

I can’t sleep because my sister is whispering to me

Help me Laurie

I’m in a car dying Laurie

You don’t care Laurie

Why are you dead Kim!

Why are you dead Joji?

Why are you dead Larry?

Why are you dead mommy

Why are you dead daddy?

Why are you crippled, and rotting in a bed, child-like and forgetting

 in order to live


Eat the soft food,

Spooned into your mouth

Listen, blind to the T.V.’s drone

Drifting, sifting through just the safe places in the past.


It’s not right!

It’s not fucking right. Not tonight

Not with all my might

Can I make it not awful

Not with prayer

Not in a box

Not with a fox

Not here or there

Not anywhere…

Is it fucking right.


I want to grieve,

I just cried pretty hard

Did it help me

With the shard

In my heart that seems stuck

And I’m out of luck with nothing but the fucking fuck

 of Covid

And dying

And sighing

 And open-eyed bed-lying


The world’s overloaded with peoples’ stuffing down

And filling up with scrabbling

And playing and forgetting

And bloodletting

The earth is a hot dish of wriggly worms

Culled from germs

That are getting even

Spreading out to thin the weak

And cut the herd

The fear and dread

Cause even more mind-bending heads,

 to be heavy like lead

With the dead

Dead Dead Dead

I said!

It’s not fucking RIGHT!

About the author: Laurie

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