We have lemony crystals jumping out of packets
Dancing to the sound of stirring on round walls
Music floating from flooded basements
From the boxes filled with ornaments and Christmas garland
We have laminate smacking to the beat of stomping feet
Guided onward by speakered music
Permeated by the stench of collard greens
And cinnamon rolls in the morning
Apple cider and steeped tea at night
As we laugh at Big Bang theory
In channels of white walls
Lined for miles with brown doors
I saw a boy
Painting his song on black and white keys
He didn’t sense the sensation I felt
That brought me to this poem
His teacher stood behind him
Their skin creating a waxing crescent
Turned 90 degrees
I wonder how far he’ll go
If his dreams will unfold
To the sound
In porous practice rooms
Where proofing only masks sunlight.
I wonder if he’ll find joy
In worshipping white forefathers
Tolerating white foremothers
And giving his ancestors specialty concerts
I am
Tangled thought
I am creative wealth
People, plan, poor
I don’t listen to them
I am fatigue
Trembling hands
Crocheted words
Analysis
Indecision
I am glee
Science tells us
That our bodies desiccate
As we grow older
As we gain knowledge
We die
As we move through
Our invented schooling
Learning our revised history
Practicing our fabricated traditions
Our fingers begin to tremble
Our skin folds into itself
Or sags
Leaks puss
Fractures or
Bruises
Our brain
In our bumped heads
Underneath our dandruffed scalps
Collecting memories
To forget
Decompose
Only good people compost.
Take time to dispose of their food.
To better the environment around them.
They carefully examine their remains.
Eyeing what can be used and what cannot,
They wish that all of it could be put to better use.
Instead of sitting, untouched trash.
Gravity sagging its contents down,
Until it breaks.
For the styes on eyes
The wrinkled clothing
The stained shirts
For the clouded glasses
For the forgotten masks
And instruments
And music
For the left water cups
The prolonged stops
In the hallway
For the missed busses
And the broken bones
And the accidental accidents
For the wrong shoes
And the missing keys
And the missed beats
Somehow I get there on time
