they call it education
this hell we are forced into
they say we “need to know”

but when have I ever
needed to use
imaginary numbers
in my daily activities?

when did my life require
that I write an essay
longer than the first book
I read on my own

why are children taught
numbers before morals

when will I need to know
what happened in ancient rome
or the outcome
of a battle long past won

why did they teach me
such useless things
and then throw me
out into the world

they didn’t teach me
how to write a resume
or balance a checkbook

they didn’t teach me
how to budget myself
or save money for later

they didn’t teach me
how to deal with stress
or that it’s okay to
ask for help sometimes

they didn’t teach me
to recognize the warning signs
in a friend who’s on the brink
of self-destruction

they didn’t teach me
how to have safe sex
and instead told me
“don’t have sex”

they didn’t teach me
anything practical
but instead filled my head
with useless fluff

they call you smart
if you can memorize
and regurgitate information
that you’ll never use again

they call you stupid
if you can’t keep up
instead of helping you
they ignore you
because you
aren’t worth it
to them.

if school had taught me
what a healthy relationship is
or how to leave an abusive one

if school had taught me
that though I may be young
my opinion is not irrelevant

if school had taught me
the truth about the way
the world works

perhaps I would have
a few less cracks in my paint
a few smaller breaks in my heart

perhaps I would have
learnt that my happiness
and mental health

is more important
than this thing called


You must be out of your god damned mind if you think
The president is gonna bring the nation to the brink
Of meddling in the middle of a military mess
A game of chess where France is queen and kingless
We signed a treaty with a king whose head is now in a basket
Would you like to take it out and ask it?
Should we honor our treaty, King Louis’ head?
Uh, do whatever you want, I’m super dead

–Cabinet Battle #2, Hamilton [photo credit: Joan Marcus]


Honey Badger Cafe with Alexis, Brinca and Grace. It was quite the enjoyable experience.  
Spicy Chipotle Beef + Ham & Potato Soup upgrade - $7, pretty yummy!
Ski something Soda (I can’t remember the name) - $2.25, pretty yummy too! 
Brinca got their milk tea which is 2.95 and said she didn’t like it.   


Speak to me…
like your would,
to a dream;
Your own
Putty in your hands,
Word your words,
with infatuation,
flirting on the brink
of truth;
Reveal sunflowers,
growing under shadows,
and I shall be the Sun;
Let me sing you,
a lullaby,
of hope,
while you eat
into misery,
the likes of which,
crawled on walls
Let me absolve you,
of your sins,
erase with kindness,
past horrors,
imprinted on your trampled being;
And when you are done
before I go,
as you snap the strings,
let it be known,
I was love
and maybe, the only…
who understood you thus;
And I am leaving, carrying
with me,
everything you meant to say…

© SoulReserve 2015



our lost silence
crouches on cool sand
in the lower inlet
rushing blood heats
unearthed hands

unafraid in the dark
in the junctures of limbs
slick with seafoam need
we are strangers equal
to discovery

the sea is a familiar
the sea speaks only of itself


in the darkness
of brush rustle
of bird-cry settling
we seek out the brink
of giving up return

to a world inflicting light
upon itself


our joint cravings
lapsed indecisions
fateless escapes
make love as the water
grinds glass into a sheet –
the last rubbing of us


a high cry –
in concentric circles
the water grows more lustrous
than the satellite
we lie under
deeper than the dead
we last
eating dune roses
until the sea is a wall
and I take you up against it


that restless bird –
where light dyes pathways
I tear out your heart
and hand you mine
still beating
in defiance


your silvery shocks
never arrest,
still clenching
sea changes
under my fingers
the shells of your lives
the hiss of the moon

the petals of your blissful
abandonment of subterfuge –

I’ll be there for your birth
I’ll give way for your funeral
I’ll miss your wedding –
arched back in waves too cold
eyes closed
a fin for an arm
an ending for your finds

washed up
we are


still breathing
against glass silence

for the last drawing of us