19/30 Esemplastic

my heart deciphers first

hears hope just under the rejection

tries to weigh it all up

with her no hands

or eyes

feeling all the things at once

until they traffic jam collide

a pile up

where she dangles in doubt

tries to repair what may not be broken

until she breaks it with her no hands

if she had hands they would wrap themselves

around each other in a worry that should

or should not exist

feelings all over the floor

love swimming upstream

my brain always leaps the other way

tries to read into and between the lines

tries to suss out intend and what was really being said

does not trust the information

until processed to damn near death.

somewhere in me logic lingers

runs interference to the point of exhaustion

logic holds the key to the tears

she covers them with

an attempt to cool the tempest

knowing she will have to do it again

soon

17/30 Kvell

when they found their bodies outside of mine

took their first breaths

announced their arrivals

my silent prayers of peace and whole

became prophecies to be fulfilled

they own their faces and choices

their successes make me proud to be home

away from home

the miles don’t matter

when love is the map

the way we find our way back

they call and my face is beacon

is reminded I am alive and live on

in multiple locations and shapes

and eyes

they will never not be mine

never really away from my

my locket hearts holds their faces

holds their love lifts their voices

every time I open my mouth

16/30 Hoi Polloi

there are times when my heart adjusts itself

the beat syncs with pulse

a touch can set me to spinning

a kind word

the way she tastes in rainstorms

the sound of thunder rattles

through me on days when the light comes through

when I own my reflection

the skin aching for sun and breeze

the roaming of all over

the search and destroy mindset

sprinkles itself in the eyes of non-believers

who hold the destinies of other in contempt

for reasons only you understand

an adjustment made of desperation

hope held hostage

and teeth full of mouth

13/30 Tonsorial

when you are a single mother

with boys

that have hair

they refuse to comb

and school starts soon

and there are stores that sell clippers

so you buy them

the barber shop is too expensive

three visits pays for the clippers

and then

there is more money

for the clothes they are outgrowing

for the shoes that always need replacing

for the meals missing mid-day in summer

this practical single mother knows

she has no skills at cutting hair

but how hard can it be

she has seen hair cut

her sons are not eager to be

experimental performance

no one wants to go first

the youngest loses the fight

because

youngest

he sits not as calm as he pretends

there is a soft buzz

an ouch

a retort of

damn your ears are big

a little blood

then an

oops

the older brother slaps his hand

across his lips

to stuff back the explicative

that will get his ass beat

while the sisters laugh

the younger brother advances on

the mirror

mouth stretched in a scream

that won’t come

a tear falls

the mother is upset

she didn’t do it on purpose

she apologizes to the crying boy

who now has to have it

all

cut

off

a trim turned bald

the older brother declares

he wants to grow the biggest

afro in the world

ever

while the younger develops

an interest

in hats

12/30 Miche

I don't let it show
not on my face
I hold it there just out of sight
in plain view
no one can see
what I don't want to show
they do anyway

this poetry thing
gets under your skin sometimes
an odd rash of rhyme and rhythm
coughing up a residue of words
people like that sometimes
it is a healing by tearing away
a stripping naked thing that never sleeps
it eats away and nourishes at the same time
it is a noisy lover and has no chill
it talks about everything and never blushes
points out the bruises calls them beautiful
a trophy of scars hanging on the walls
it comes too fast sometimes
and rarely wears protection
says it is clean even when it  is nasty

I have had so many babies I named poems
swaddled them in books that hang out in libraries
and she is always there lurking
assuring me I am never alone

27/30 Simulacrum - a slight unreal superficial likeness

those times we finish each others sentences

I think, this is a good thing, the way we can think

along the same lines draw the same conclusions

in all our yellow and purple

we move, awkward dancers, to a beat we created

without talking we move and the world diassapears 

we are all that exists and we waste nothing

especially the silences

I tell you I love you and your skin changes

becomes cold to the touch so afraid of

wanting the same things I want because maybe you

want it more I can see it in the crooked of you smile

these days we dance not with but around each other

questioning everything so different from yesterday

when our hearts tapped out the same shudder steps

in sync

25/30 Maudlin

another black man committed suicide 

today well it was accidentally on purpose

his back broken surrounded by blue

but he did it to himself isn't that the way 

it happens always every 28 minutes

in America those magic hued thugs

those escape artists the way they shoot 

themselves in the faces while hands cuffed 

behind their backs not smoke and mirrors but

some other kind of magic they try to convince

us don't exist the cameras roll

they so magic we don't believe our eyes

we have so many question like

why they be breaking their own backs

why they be shooting themselves in the back

never once but multiple

why your wallets look like guns

why is it that after you're shot dead

you still gotta be handcuffed

how do you hold your breath so long 

you can no longer breath

we saw the video just don't believe our eyes

so good those officers hugged you

goodbye who needs evidence

when you live in a land surrounded

by all that blue

24/30 Cacophonous

the smell of burning covers everything

including the truth and terror of it all

our hands heavy with regret tremble

tambourine a sound that hurts our ears

we are listening for a change that never 

seems to arrive our feet to busy running

in circles we are dizzy with media spin

false truths dressed in a blue the color of bullets

most days the privilege is so loud 

it drowns out everything darker

than the weight of white causes our

teeth to hurt from all the artificial

we wear the noise around our necks

boots with traction hold us in place

threats of protection shake us from our skin

and the noise of it all leaves us deaf and staggering

20/30 Bunkum

throat cleared podium addressed

he touts the treasure beneath his tongue

promised all that can be noted 

return to sender 

pay due upon reciept

move along nothing to see here

what rights

you don't need no stinking rights

nothing but love for you and your ilk

vote for me you'll see

how well I can spin for you

in and out of control

up and down the topics

gimmie that baby

I got a kiss for it

18/30 Schlemiel

I've never felt so clueless

so out of luck the way it

never seems to go the way 

I think it should

no happiliy ever after no

silver linings to destract me

from the fact that you have

the amazing ability to make 

me feel stupid whenever you are near

maybe it's not a feeling 

maybe it's the truth 

and maybe this is my cue to depart

before the mean girl in you shows her face

and I forget for a minute that I don't

punch people anymore and forget

for a minute and forgot

I am always attracted to things and people

that cause more pain than joy never

really sure of what's happening

navigating niceties and lies

mine fields where they don't need to be

like we don't need to be

but I'm always a handy placeholder

the person you pretend with until

you can pretend with someone 

who overlooks the things you know

I can see, and I stay sometimes

refusing to believe I've held

someone so shallow in my mouth

17/30 Argot

sitting behind a desk

arranging figures that will not

increase your holdings

clocking time on things you hate

washing away in all the monotany

you don't want to be here and can't leave at the same time

hair on fire for something different for a change 

something exciting 

something that can hold your attention

i once thought this was my passion

this 9-5 this note and mortgage

but I am just living to pay things off

things I have no time to enjoy

things that remind me of debt

and all that I am missing

16/30 derringer-do

So, it will end the way it began 

full of confusion guts and guns 

a people attempting to survive 

while others hunt them down 

in the wildreness they call home 

tears spent 

no change 

fear festering in secret 

only to out themselves 

become bigger prey 

a party we were never invited to 

this way of men and their games 

play reguardless of the consequences 

blanks or live fire 

the only thing that matters 

is winning all day everyday 

if infiltrated turn inwards 

hold yourself hostage 

ransom note your own obituary 

photoshop your own tombstone 

create a new club in the afterlife

11/30 Polyglot

you tell me you love me

and I hear it with my entire face

feel it between my teeth

you love me

that's what you said and I believe

the language new to my tongue accepts

wants to be accepted I hang on your word

like laundry on a line clip rooted

swaying in the spring breeze

until I realize that what you 

are not saying is what I should be

listening to, how I am not a part 

of the parts that mean more than

fleeting, more than maybe one day

the fool in me recognizes the misstep

remembers doing this before

remembers how much it hurt

everywhere

all the time

5/30 Oology

pollen covers everything

refusing to give up the throne that is my porch

I wipe the yellow dust from the table surface

wash my hands so as not to rub the dust in my eyes

a spring habit as nature spews her love all over
my eyes catch sight of our porch dweller

the bird who thrice tried to build her nest 

above our door rests, nest-less 

on the ledge of a column above the grill

she is not there every night

only when weather threatens to happen

tonight the clouds with their dark temper

stomp across a starless sky

there is a pang of guilt in the moment

but it passes quickly

I know the nature of mothers

know that if she had built her nest 

in that location when the eggs hatched 

we would not be able to pass without attack

protecting home and hearth is what most mothers do

I do not believe she is haunting me

she is not Poe's raven quoting the same word

over and over in an attempt to rid me of my sanity

but I wonder, if my removal of her attempts

to create a home for her one day eggs robbed her

of a family then I wonder if it's the males who build the nest

and I have mis-gendered this bird as well as

leaving it homeless

there are so many trees nearby

wouldn't trees be better real estate 

for winged ones to occupy 

isn't that where birds should build

not on a porch over the grill that will soon bellow smoke

and the sizzle of meat