Such a Problem
If I can just be patient and let it,
the world will unfold as it should.
Problems will untangle
revealing themselves not
to be problems at all.
Turns out multiple calls
and waits on hold
plus multiple e-mails to the NY Times
were not necessary.
My paper was delivered next door.
The relentlessly pushing self
finds out too late–
she’s held in a web of caring.
When the dead play basketball
it’ll be in Kentucky,
at the crisp edge of the Fall,
opponents: less than lucky,
it’ll be in Kentucky,
the lineup, a heavy slate,
opponents: less than lucky,
our state’s love’s innate,
the lineup, a heavy slate,
join the herd at Broadway and High,
our state’s love’s innate,
we’ll flood Rupp Arena after we die.
Join the herd at Broadway and High,
ghosts in the rafters, zombies in the stands.
We’ll flood Rupp Arena after we die.
We’ll turn y’all into fans.
Ghosts in the rafters, zombies in the stands,
at the crisp edge of the Fall,
we’ll turn y’all into fans
when the dead play basketball.
I played an expensive conversation
with someone half dead.
Looked in the mirror
anf thought about what they said.
“I feel like a waste of breath,
when I disappear
and there’s nothing left
Remember me,
Digest my words,
mans leave something to sing for the birds”
The mirror cracked
I wish I could be like my dad
and write a song,
but I can’t micromanage
like my mom.
***Please read carefully. This is hard to write and post, and I’m still not convinced I should post this. But, as a writer looking to challenge myself, I don’t want to stop just because something is uncomfortable, so here it is.***
Putting pen to paper to craft these impossible words with my limited experience
In the face of such depraved evils is hard.
I cannot identify with the victims and I look like the devils and I fear
Coming across as diminishing a nightmare to the squash of a bug, but let me be clear.
I cannot fathom the damage wrought!
With the perspective of nobody besides a constant potential aggressor
I try to weave around these evils that collaterally define me, that do bother me
But that’s nothing compared to the lives scarred by these unending hurts
Like you all, I am enraged and this is the only way I know how to fight, bear with me
Become the strength behind my sword to help slay this eternal night.
We all have a part that we can play, whoever we are
Father, mother, brother, sister, friend.
Let us all help each other find our place in this nocturnal war.
There was a dumpster not ten feet away
When the fainting spell took all the power
And put it into my hands
In the weight of her falling body
Whatever the biological miscalculation
The night took on a new shade of dark
As I guided her descent
With the frantic gentleness of love
And in my arms I held
All the things I could never understand
Because of who I am
Except for maybe the fear
Fear of not knowing
How long the dark would reign
Fear of the passerby
Seeing a white male over
An unconscious female body
I held the fear of a worse timing
Leaving her alone in a dark alley
Where someone who looks like me
May very well not act like me
Held her with that fear
Of that empowering temptation
That touches too many
Though it never touched me
And I hate
That this side of me must sit behind
Suspicions of my awkward nature
Because some men are dangerous
So I could be too
Driving by at night
Walking alone at night
But for now it has to be.
I’m not a victim here
No, I’m fucking enraged
About the security that is robbed
About the worlds that are shattered
That to be safe is to question integrity
And to hold a set of keys through the fingers
When there’s no one left to protect
Not even the umbrella of a justice system
Sheltering the offender from the rain
I hope for a day
For those who are a victim,
For those who fear becoming a victim,
For the friend I once held in my arms,
For the daughter I hope to have someday,
Where I don’t have to be questioned
So that you know, whatever the circumstance
If I find you in trouble at a party, in a street,
In a field, or behind a dumpster
I will stay with you
And guard you with my life
This I swear.
Yesterday’s heat has given way to moderation, and I’m out front, down on my old, stiff hands and thick, aching knees, tending the varied wealth of our flower beds. Last year’s rose of Sharon volunteers need cleaning out, before they root so deep I’ll need a spade and back brace. Or maybe dynamite. There are days I’m almost frustrated enough to blow the place up and down and start over. Don’t worry. Ain’t gonna’ happen. I know better than to do that. But I swear this process will take forever. Meanwhile, it’s five days before the first anniversary of Charleston, and down in Orlando the clean-up crews aren’t even starting to get ready. The crime scene will take a week of forevers to process. A score dead, two score wounded, somebody with a score to settle. When they get fed up enough with whatever they’re personally, self-righteously fed up with, some folks just want the sound of gunfire to start over, to raise their spirits up and strike the others down. Why does the wrongness of this take forever for us to process?
Escorted by our host to the top of Rich Mountain
we are speechless at the cathedral opulence.
With a wisp of a toy-loving terrier at his feet,
our travel guide/storyteller
prepares breakfast and says on a clear day
we can see North Carolina and Tennessee.
The rhododendrons are lush.
Bella, the three-legged lab,
swims lustily at Long Creek Falls.
We rush to see the setting sun,
greet the moon and two dippers
and the next morning
hike to meet the dawn.
Pay attention world.
Human purpose.
Assimilate.
How do you read
the reality out
of step
with your time.
Temporal narrativity shaped
like a sphere reflects
an incomphrehensible
view, and that is real.
1101100110011001111100011
XXOOXXOXXXOOXOXOXXOOOX
Ex. Oh. Uno. Dos.
Hug me wooly bully world.
When Instagram makes
everyone an artist canny
creators embrace surfiction.
The reality of the surreal.
tell me what youre drinkin
tell me what youre thinkin
tell me what you wannabe
baby
we don’t need to go too far
just sit at the bar and tell me who you really are
tell me what youre drinkin
tell me what youre thinkin
tell me who you wannabe
baby
i don’t know what’s too far
can you please just tell me who you really are
Maybe then I can find the new man who I really am
shoot the shit on Saturday morning like simmity sam
you see this dude fam, that’s me not givin a damn
give him a gram just to get em by
hit em high hit em low
from the sky to the toes
spittin lies don’t give him an o
just give him an L
listen well I’m gettin loose
sippin stella on a stoop
in an innate stupor
smile for the state trooper
don’t heil the hate mover
style like the late great Buddah
hit that grape ape like Zab Juddah
gutful of roses for a sad suitor
only chance if she naturally gravitate to goobers
make you mad as all the ads on your computer
silver spoon critics getting high off some new dirt
don’t care who hurts from it
you jerk tryna snipe me from the summit
use yo gun on a pundit
you either hunt or you hunted
always keep it one hunnid
nah just say what I wanna
tell me what youre drinkin
tell me what youre thinkin
tell me what you wannabe
baby
we don’t need to go too far
just sit at the bar and tell me who you really are
tell me what youre drinkin
tell me what youre thinkin
tell me who you wannabe
baby
i don’t know what’s too far
can you please just tell me who you really are
Sorry I forgot your name but you’ve got a familiar face
have we not met, my memory sometimes fades
or gets covered up in the cold by a blank sheet of snow
No, a blank sheet of sleet cuz I can see right through it
That’s what you say, then I say Who wants to see through memory?
It’s not even yours, you weren’t there, not really sure I was
You come closer to whisper, Don’t try to hide, I know your type
you think you have no type and typecast your life
Then I say I’d like to think your my type but I don’t buy my own hype
then she says, Yeah but that makes you sell your life for nothing
Do you want to bounce a blank check when death collects
Or do you wanna leave more than your sore ills in your will?
Then you walk off and I’ll never know if you wanted me to follow
so I let you go, hope I see you tomorrow
I never knew if she wanted me to follow
would I even know if I saw her tomorrow
I’d tell her
tell me what youre drinkin
tell me what youre thinkin
tell me what you wannabe
baby
we don’t need to go too far
just sit at the bar and tell me who you really are
tell me what youre drinkin
tell me what youre thinkin
tell me who you wannabe
baby
i don’t know what’s too far
can you please just tell me who you really are
We’re all
Equal at being human.
We’re not
All the same
In how we show it.
For better or not
It is this
And other things
That sometimes, should teach us humility
And other times, should “force our hands”
And make us strong.
