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Fievel Crane Posts

POEM: Laughter

Published 17 June 2026 by Fievel

Laughter

They held signs and banners.
They wore cute hats and shirts.
The state laughed and looked away.

They shouted slogans and mottoes.
They sang songs of protest.
The state laughed and looked away.

They held photos of their missing loved ones.
They created memorials in the town square.
The state laughed and looked away.

They visited the offices of politicians.
They assembled on the capital steps.
The state laughed and looked away.

They wrote strongly worded letters.
They called the offices of the powerful.
The state laughed and looked away.

They voted with their wallets.
They only bought local.
The state laughed and looked away.

They recycled their cans and bottles.
They used their own shopping bags.
The state laughed and looked away.

They filled glass bottles with gasoline.
They learned to shoot guns.
The state’s laughter faltered.

They chose their targets carefully.
They sowed fear in the hearts of the rich.
The smile left the face of the state.

They fought fire with fire.
They built a new world in the ashes of the old.
The state? What state?

/ / /

17 June 2026
Charlottesville VA

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haiku: 14 June 2026

Published 14 June 2026 by Fievel

backs turned on the railroad
the towns don’t look
as I pass by

/ / /

14 June 2026
on a train in Virginia

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POEM: some of my dad

Published 29 May 2026 by Fievel

some of my dad

we hugged and he said
“you’re getting so big”

at first I thought it was a fat jab
a not uncommon topic there

but then he looked at the top of my head
and I realized he meant “all grown up”

he’d already been forgetting things:
words, events, people’s names, movies he’d seen

but everybody forgets those things
from time to time

this time he looked at a thing
(a person … ME)

and saw something else
someone else, somewhen else

that’s when I knew
nothing would ever be the same again

/ / /

29 May 2026
Charlottesville VA

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POEM: Cliff Diver

Published 12 May 2026 by Fievel

Cliff Diver

It’s hard to write a poem
while the songs are playing,
but I wanted you to know
how much it means to me
that you see me as me,
as the person I am
but also as the person
I want to be, can be.
There’s a lot of fog
in the area this morning
and I get it. I often feel
as though I’m walking
through a thick mist,
unsure of my destination
or even my current location.
But then I catch a glimpse of you
and I know where I am, who I am.
An exchange student once told me
that the people who love you
are a net so you know you’re safe
and can’t fall too far.
I’ve taken some real plunges
over years, fallen off cliffs
and into crevasses,
but my people always find me.
Thank you for finding me
and for reminding me
that a better world is possible.

/ / /

12 May 2026
Charlottesville VA

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POEM: Freedom Fighter

Published 7 May 2026 by Fievel

Freedom Fighter

I am hunkered down
in the hills of my life,
cold hands holding
a machine gun
I 3-D printed using
plans I got off Reddit.

I am in open rebellion
against myself.
I wage war
on the limitations
I have set.
I topple my government.

I am waiting
for my critic to appear,
to put their head
above the parapet
of the fortress
they’ve built inside me.

From this distance (zero inches)
it will be difficult to miss,
or at least that’s how
it seems to me.
I’ve never shot
a figment before.

/ / /

Charlottesville VA
7 May 2026

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POEM: A Place Shaped Like Me: A Manifesto At The End Of The Rope

Published 5 May 2026 by Fievel

A Place Shaped Like Me:
A Manifesto At The End Of The Rope

So many times over the past three years
I’ve been forced to capitulate to capitalism;
to silence my own voice at the altar of
paying the rent, buying the groceries.
Those above me in the food chain
make me feel less than I am,
or misguided, or crazy, for caring
about the people around me,
for calling a genocide a genocide,
for speaking truth to power,
for speaking truth at all.
Even lines on a page are open
to the scrutiny of their agents,
their watching eyes, their peering informers.
And I can choose to keep living like this.
I can choose to accept, to shrink,
to lessen, to fade, to wither.
I can say yes and leave each day crying.
I can smother the brightness at the core of me.
I can do all this to pay rent, to buy groceries.
I can even do it because I used to love
what they’ve made me hate.
But there’s no tomorrow.
The glass is already broken.
Time is already up.
And with that realization,
the certain knowledge
that nothing is promised,
that this is my one moment on Earth,
that the worst that can come is the end;
with that as my pole star I can fight.
I can find a new place in this world
where my beliefs are assets,
not rough edges to be sanded down.
I can rise past the lowered aspirations
of those who see only dollar signs,
to a place where I am proud
to be with friends, with comrades.
A place where speaking truth
is expected and welcomed.
A place where the ground supports my feet,
where the air tastes sweeter,
where I remember.
With that knowledge, and with the love
of those closest to me,
I can find a place shaped like me.

/ / /

4 May 2026
Charlottesville VA

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POEM: The Struggle Bus

Published 30 April 2026 by Fievel

The Struggle Bus

I hopped aboard the struggle bus
as April came to its end.
Random naps and nights
of too much sleep.
Unlike a normal bus,
the struggle bus has no rope to pull,
no button to press to signal your stop.
You get off when it lets you off,
and you’ll be where it wants you to be.
The oddest thing about the struggle bus?
If you disobey the rule and stand
ahead of the yellow line
to catch a glimpse of the driver,
you’ll find the driver is you.
Very Empire Strikes Back.

/ / /

30 April 2026
Charlottesville VA

Day 30 of National Poetry Month

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POEM: It’s Almost Over: A List

Published 29 April 2026 by Fievel

It’s Almost Over: A List

The American Empire.
Hockey season (not really).
Capitalism.
Basketball season (closer).
The idea that billionaires are acceptable.
The Red Sox season (I hope not).
The idea that the rich are acceptable.
The Kind Bar I’m eating as I type.
Taurus season (I looked it up).
National Poetry Month.
This poem.
OK now it’s over.

/ / /

29 April 2026
Charlottesville VA

Day 29 of National Poetry Month

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POEM: Kill The Cop In Your Head

Published 28 April 2026 by Fievel

Kill The Cop In Your Head

I fucking hate cops.
You fucking hate cops.
Everybody fucking hates cops.
Well, not everybody.
Some folks love licking boots.
Some folks love protecting the rich.
Some folks are racists.
Some folks are just plain stupid.
But the rest of us?
The rest of us fucking hate cops.

/ / /

28 April 2026
Charlottesville VA

Day 28 of National Poetry Month

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POEM: Horatio

Published 27 April 2026 by Fievel

Horatio

When folks call me “sir”
I say I’m non-binary.
Not to be a jerk,
but to point out that
there are more things
in heaven and earth etc.
I often feel like an impostor gay,
probably because it took so long
to remember my true nature.
I feel even less qualified to be trans,
as if I’m wearing another’s uniform.
I poke the polite balloon
with my little pin of protest.
I dream of a new philosophy;
of a day when I am enough.

/ / /

27 April 2026
Charlottesville VA

Day 27 of National Poetry Month

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POEM: Ballpark

Published 27 April 2026 by Fievel

Ballpark

We sat for the anthem,
stood for the Sox,
liberated our hot dogs,
met some Mainers,
cheered for the runs,
laughed at the hecklers,
awwwwed at the kids,
drove back home.

/ / /

26 April 2026
Charlottesville VA

Day 26 of National Poetry Month

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POEM: Transformation

Published 25 April 2026 by Fievel

Transformation

As I get older, I look more like my dad.
Not more like him than I do my mom,
but more like him than I did when I was young.
When I lift something heavy I make his face:
bottom lip out, tight expression.
When I drive I sometimes find
my left index finger across my mouth,
or both hands drumming on the steering wheel.
Our skin looks a lot alike, too,
and until I shaved my goatee,
even our general appearance,
at least from a little distance,
was very similar.
What makes all this even more interesting,
is that my dad and I share no DNA.
We’re not related at all, except in the way
human beings are generally connected.
I’m no biologist, but I’m pretty sure
the nature/nurture argument is about behavior,
not about me turning into my dad physically.
My dad is becoming someone new now,
as dementia begins its work. In that absence,
I don’t mind taking on some of his presence.

/ / /

25 April 2026
Charlottesville VA

Day 25 of National Poetry Month

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POEM: Puzzle

Published 24 April 2026 by Fievel

Puzzle

I’m on the porch, listening
to the new Metric album.
My cat is asleep on the bed inside.
Sometimes a dog goes by.
Other times there’s a bluebird.
These are the pieces I put together
as I try to make a life.

/ / /

24 April 2026
Charlottesville VA

Day 24 of National Poetry Month

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POEM: 2500 Years After The Buddha

Published 23 April 2026 by Fievel

2500 Years After The Buddha

I charge my phone with a portable charger
so my phone will remain close to me
then I walk into the other room and recharge
the portable charger so that next time
I want to keep my phone close to me it’s ready.

/ / /

23 April 2026
Charlottesville VA

Day 23 of National Poetry Month

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POEM: Spring Vignette

Published 22 April 2026 by Fievel

Spring Vignette

Rain has been threatening all day.
The breeze moves leaves but not trunks.
A series of small birds flits
from power line to porch wall to grass.
There is no music in my headphones.
There is a lull in the dog parade.
I’m falling asleep, even as I write this line.

/ / /

22 April 2026
Charlottesville VA

Day 22 of National Poetry Month

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