8/30 Space

the world is not a safe space
never has been
           never will be

ask Afghanistan
ask the homeless
ask the countless missing women
no one is looking for

in thought it makes sense
it has no place in reality
no one person has the answers
so we are stuck in those places
where stuck things live
were memory fails
and history pretends it never happened

i remember a dream that wasn't a dream
a brown body on a stage
a brown body in my arms
sobbing and confused
how their community
could turn it's back so loudly
shut their voice off
them shaking
my shirt soggy
nothing there was safe
not even the fabric

there was a time i made a statement
it was mine
i born it myself
believing because it was mine
it would hold me
then someone stuck their fingers into my story
made me all about them
said it was OK
said they were right
because even being my own bones
wasn't safe for me
or them
so they drag their neanderthal thoughts
blamed me for their privilege
they felt safe in their convictions until the next time
when they make some other vagina their own

i suppose you could wrap it
surround it with something impenetrable
bomb proof it
bullet proof it
take it away from those who harm
if we all decide who that is
but it has to be the same who
cover it in plastic
make it safe
no longer a problem for anyone
or anything
because everything is safe
when it is dead

7/30 Variations

in the first dream 

i wake naked           wonder the house 

i do not recognize 

i think i know what this means           but not yet 

in each room i find some forgotten thing 

or some lost item of clothing 

or some part of me I've neglected 

on the stairs there are a pair of shoes 

i have never been before 

they accuse me of running off at the mouth 

of counting things i do not own 

they sit there in their shiny blues 

                a sad song 

                i do not know the words to 

in the kitchen 

the ramshackle that is my heart 

leans a soggy mess on the counter 

every other beat it calls her name           in a whisper shout 

that 

i can not hear 

because my ears 

are no longer connected to my head         

                         and i think i know what this means 

                                                                   not yet 

the last room i care to search 

is not a room at all 

it is the hollow of a throat i loved 

it is my right arm atrophied 

missing the form of her gone body 

                   it is the waist deep in memory 

                   and missing all the points 

i have never lived here 

like i thought 

this house has forgotten the shape of me 

if i ever find my eyes 

maybe they will tell me something different 

echo myself back 

                          i think i know what this means

                                                              not yet

6/30 The Difference

The Difference

history is not always on your side

there are tools today not available

some long ago

the rules are no longer

the rules

back then

the peaceful opened arms wide

believing no harm would come

because they meant no harm

over and over again

at some point the peaceful

adapted their thinking

protection their mode of communication

modern day colonizers forget

the memories present in the colonized

because they have no recollection

they couldn’t

they have never been

on the receiving end

of loss of home

by force

being demonized for existing

in their own environments

so moving forward

the mentality of

things will be what I want them to be

is not based in real time thinking

these days the people

know they are being displaced

never trusted your tongue

or

presence in neighborhoods

they’ve inhabited

for decades

and you don’t understand

that you moved into their hoods

you want to claim neighbor

when you do not know them

or care

to

they who are reduced the to thug

because you never read hood life 101

left a laundry list of opportunities to take

the way you took from them

and this is not to condone

but explain

things don’t change because

you showed up

I know your privilege didn’t tell you this part

that yes the native folk will videotape

the crimes against you

the way the cops tape crimes

perpetrated on them

and nothing happens

and nothing will happen

as long as you believe yourself

to be above them

you continue to call them thugs

call the police when you

don’t like the loudness of their music

because it doesn’t have the same

rhythms of your leaf blower

if you want to live in the hood,

you better learn the language

understand that Leroy

been living on that corner

for a decade

and Miss Lillian knows everything

all the time

your presence

doesn’t change

their reality

it changes yours

and you better learn how to adapt

or just like you saw your opportunity and acted on it,

they will do the same

there are all kinds of takers

you no longer hold

the monopoly on that

and that is the difference

5/ 30 Logophobia

Logophobia

there have always been words

that say what need to be said

exposing to the light

that which loves the dark spaces

in our bodies

in our world

we collect these words

one behind the other

string them along

make them make sense

fill our mouths to the brim

with the texture of them

a collection of thought

figured out

and then

something changes

not the climate of course

we have been told this does not exist

along with all the other thing

we are told does not exist

by way of attaching prefixes

post-

anti-

pre-

a way of resurrecting fears

that never died in the first place

always there lingering in plain sight

we become other words

combinations that did not exist before

a new list of collective nouns

new words to describe

the systematic grooming of a group

to be referred to as one entity

be us person,

place  

thing

state of mind of being

in this new collective

we become a litany of nothing scientific

though fully recognizable

I mean,

just the other day

in what I thought

was a civilized conversation

my unwillingness to agree with false facts

turned me in their eyes

into a battlefield of belligerence

a cacophony of chaos

such a criticism of compromise

a concern of community

the more I refused to bend my tongue

to their will

I watched them become

a clutch of pearls

a bullet of bullies

a boast of orange

shrouded in an agony of shortsightedness

they issued a warrant of warnings

wrapped in an abortion of anger

who would fear a murder of crows

when surrounded by

a disassembly of democracy

a hazard of humanity

a choke of holds

4/30 Beam

Beam

she smiled at me

and I thought

what a nice smile

disarming in it slow reveal

a slide across teeth

beaming crookedly adorable

hand slapped on thigh

because

actually slapping yourself

in public

could be seen

as what it is not

and is at the same time

just a stinging reminder

that’s all

that  is all you want

in that moment

a reminder of what sliding

into a smile like that could     bite

like how good it might feel    all over

you have fallen into too many

the saliva stinging memories

you wish you never had

some you wish you had again

but you have no desire to time travel

to be somewhere you have already been

so you feel the sting

the slap

the tread carefully

you have a habit of running

chambers first

maybe this time

this time maybe

you want to go slow

recognize your own navigation

lead with something other than

what’s been broken a time too many

to count

3/30 Pyre

Pyre

the night came quick

the way I do sometimes when the new of your skin

sparks and flames

too intense

in that moment the flush flashes over my skin

a momentary instance of shy

washes over me

then away

I am ready to spark again

this time enduring the possible burn

of too excited

too soon

but I linger in all the right places

as darkness became darker

we blazed brilliant

friction and commotion

palms full of promises

and repeat performances

the shy spreads again

I cover my skin its youth

not as young as it used to be

the bold combustion of you

wipes away the blush

and the covers

to rekindle again

the way your eyes scorch my skin

incandescent

so we do a slow burn that lasts

luminescent

devouring

a searing sentiment

you on the tip of my tongue

2/30 What the Sick Said

What the Sick

The sick said

you invited me here

lay out a red carpet

tempted me into the ring

beckoned me like a lover

the way you opened your immune system

showed me you chin

dared me to punch

didn’t see the combination of

just the right amount of work

but not enough sleep

just the right amount of love

forgetting the power of adolescent cooties

like all that hugging wasn’t transferring

more than memories

didn’t see that counterpunch

never thought you would be on the ropes

forgot I was contender

but you gon learn today

because I didn’t forget to weigh in

stayed in my neutral corner

shadow boxed with silence

chilled ringside

waiting for the moment

I would deliver the first blow

deciding whether this be bare knuckle or gloved up

knowing I could predict each blow I would deliver

you would receive

You fall into rhythms like lullabies

I was going to put you down

Standing eight  count

saw the precise moment

I could deliver my cross

you and your loyalty to friends

you can’t do everything but you do

until I get my window

then you won't

I was called for holding

so you hit a grand slam

knew you didn't have a chance

baseball games have nothing

on a  pugilist like me

we danced you from class to class

and a show and a whatever

me light on feet bobbing and weaving

bees in a hive

My right hook nearly took you down

but you parried won that round

but you forgot about the southpaw in me

the jabs and uppercuts made me famous

tried to throw a sucker punch

something about a meeting and echinacea

I didn’t want a unanimous decision

didn’t want a TKO

I wanted a knock out

then you tag teamed Mr. Boston

said he was old school

said he has been taking out the sick for decades

said he is  smooth and whiskey eyed special  

but this wasn’t wrestling

I know how to take a punch

wasn’t ready for the match to change

didn’t see that take-down coming

didn’t think I could be thrown like that

had no moves for the half nelson

He sleeper hold put me under

pinned

that’s fine

this match is yours Theresa,

but I’ll rest up

because I know you won’t

overextending your occupational hazard

now that I know with you the tactics of defense change

due to what you need to get done

I’ll be working on my footwork

kidney punches and take-downs

you don’t know how to stay out of schools

you don’t know how to disappoint you friends

you don’t pay enough attention to recognize

when you running on empty

and I am always down for a rematch

ding!