words
oh, those forgotten swords that once
danced through our ears
and tantalized our bones
no teeth
forked pledges
silver brothels
only peace
twenty and six alibis
strung together like beads showered
behind the sun
when, I wonder, did the valley ears
turn coat?
join the machine of vacant clouds
over shallow, cowardly graveyards of
the unimaginative
who woke the dreamer?
told the virgin:
drink flesh
renounce ink
dare not shut both eyes again for I can prove
twenty and only five
Written by Brandon Loran Maxwell

Brandon Loran Maxwell is a writer, speaker, and prize winning essayist. His writings and commentary have appeared at The Hill, Salon, Townhall, The Washington Examiner, The Oregonian, FEE, and Latino Rebels Radio, among others. He regularly speaks on a variety of social topics, and has been cited at outlets such as The Los Angeles Times, Vox, and The Washington Post. His personal essay “Notes From An American Prisoner” was awarded a Writer’s Digest prize in 2014, and his one-act play “Petal By Petal” about drug and alcohol addiction was performed at The Little Theater in 2009. In addition, Brandon has fronted various punk rock and hip hop groups. He holds a B.S. in political science, and often writes about prison reform, immigration reform, pop culture, music, and Chicano culture.