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

Vaccination

noun vuh-tiss-uh-NAY-shun

1 : something foretold : prediction

2 : the act of prophesying

the worst

the best kind of lies

are told in the dark

sliding from whiskey soaked lips

slurring platitudes

like they have enough weight

to keep you

grounded

as you float above yourself

a sensation you will not remember

when dawn breaks

when the sun ignites

fumes of spent desire

as the forgetting begins

love recedes

falls back to lust

reclaiming the lonely it always was

even as it pretended

to be what it never

would

the bells ringing

missed intentions  

go unheard

a crashing

a siren singing songs

full of repressed shadows

hand over my mouth

no sound escapes

no utterance of anything solid

a fluttering thing

that holds your attention

holds it

as long as the glass is full

ice reflecting the hues of miscommunication

measured in proofs

in how much hope

you can hold between mutual distractions

when pleasure is so self-serving

it calls out its own name

hoards everything else

See these

these are the best ones

the lies that can only remember

who you are

once you’ve left

the only part

you did not ever think

you would lose again