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The Lost Year - Tiny Words/ Something Like Poems

Good Boy. Good Girl


And your brothers,

Are they good to your sisters?

And your fathers, good to their daughters?

And you, are you good to your sisters?

And you, are you good to your daughters?

And you, are you good?

And you, are you good?



He Takes 10


Every ten years he learns one lesson

On a woman's body

One mistake, as he calls it after, changes her body

And buries itself in her bones

And rips from her a tiny life

 

As grief sets in her

Fear settles through her stomach

What is growing here?

Anger in her voice

What is brewing there?

Frozen, barren shell

What was taken from here?

 

And she is shaking in a waiting room

And she is confused underneath him

Her colored skin losing warmth as a tremble echoes

its way through her nervous system

And she is imploding beside him


Through her eyes I see him everywhere 

A monster beside her

A monster within her

A monster that lingers.


All her bodies carry his sin.

 

And every ten years, a new notch on the belt.

A new lesson learnt, with women's bodies still on fire,

Fueling the engine towards his ascent

 

But it's ok, it's only a woman's body.

This is a fine place to "make mistakes".

They're women.

God made them so that they can take the pain.

Come dear boy

You're just living and learning.

She is just your kindling.


And after 10 years

I found her

She's there and still so beautiful but something's missing

Perhaps something big plucked from her eyes

Where is her life?


You're Never Wrong


Some things only God can forgive

Maybe one day he'll show me a way to be just like him

Maybe that day, we'll be born again

Perfect babies just original sin

And maybe my life is not your mistake

And my body can feel holy

And my eyes don't lower, my breath doesn't stop,

hands don't shake


And I'm on my knees only to pray

And I'm only heavy as a paperweight

And it's only a fleeting thought, not a question of somatics

You told me to trust you

So I'll follow along


I know you mean well.

You're never wrong.


Flashback High/Things from the Flashbacks

I made us make playlists of all the songs

we listened to as kids

Another theme I came up with

You called yours - Flashback High.

There was a Part I and Part II

You had me listen to it all weekend


It was 3 months before I realized

You never asked to listen to mine.

And I had to send it to you to make you listen.

.................

I drove from DC to New York from a wedding.

You'd hurt your back and two hours after settling in my apartment,

I was at yours with a bag of groceries in hand, ready to nurse you back to life.

I was always taking care of you then.

Three weeks later you were with two women in a foreign city

and your greedy hands still reached for my body.


.................

You always say you feel like you're getting away with it.

You're tricking everybody.

And no one knows who you are because you won't let them.

You're not really that way. It's not really authentic.

But the way you really are, you know you can't show it.

For weeks, I just kept reading that message.

In hindsight, it's haunting me more that all along , I’ve known it.

.................

You were only 17, but I nstill see how guilty you were looking at me now

as if I was some angel floating above you

like a Christian mother, shaming for your sins.

But I was only a kid.


And I think of what happened after me.

Surely you knew better by then.

I hoped your older age would change you for the better.

But Devon tells me that you're still not a good man.

He went to your wedding but only because it was a family thing.


I pictured you better.

.................

You said I was too much of a cheerleader. Did that mean I was too good to you?

Did I help you too much?

Was I to be your mother, your lover, your servant, and your coach, and you to me nothing?

Because you thought for me, that was good enough.

What more did you want from me darling?

I don't wanna do your dirty work, no more.

I don't wanna keep all these secrets.

I love you too much for my own sake and you know it.


I drove to an Apple store to get you a charger cause you forget it at home and you blamed it on me.

And you yelled at me in the shower for not washing your pits.

And in the grocery for taking too long I guess to look at ice cream.

And also at a concert for wanting to move up a few feet.

But you're a good man Charlie Brown.

I'm gonna keep humming

Under the Cover of Darkness

And thinking of something else.

I know you didn't mean it.

The mean was meant for yourself.

.................


And we're talking about something stupid as we always were back then

The Spice World movie or an inside joke that makes no sense to anybody

But we're screeching like hyenas and releasing fireflies stored in our bellies

And the rich girls at school are scoffing at us.

They're so stuffy, so plain, so boring.

I think that we are full, big, hearty, constantly freeing ourselves.


What do they have to complain about- brownstones, summer camp, SATs, blond boys, beach houses

You and I are helping our parents do their income taxes.

You and are I teaching our siblings how to read.

You and I are being nice to the new girls and fending off bullies.

You and I are already so complete.

We know who we are.

We had to already.

................. My mom wrote a letter to the school.

One of the other moms seemed so shocked by it.

But it was the right thing to do.

To say something about it.

................. I'm turned to the white wall quietly crying next to you as you drape yourself over me.

A nightly ritual, meaningless, because you just need a warm body.

You hold me quickly as to not be too kind, too sweet

then turn around and snore yourself to sleep.


And in the morning, I'm ready to talk about it and I say that I was upset last night.

You said "I know. I heard you crying." as if it's meaningless,

as if you're saying that “The weather today is partly cloudy. You say " I thought it was cause you wanted to cuddle more"

I look at you confused and say "You heard me cry and didn't think to ask why I was upset?"

You brushed it off before I could realized the real offense,

Before I could ask what kind of person does that or even give you a chance to

deliver an excuse or before I get to wonder

Am I even a human to you?

If you thought you knew what was wrong, you chose to do nothing to fix it.

If I needed a cuddle, it would've been so hard to give it?

But that wasn't what was wrong, but I should've recognized then

how my pain did not perturb you

How my sobs you made your lullaby,

How hurting women didn't really disturb you

And it hadn't in a long time

from the young female co-worker, to the girl who wrote the book about how she loved you.

Because you were so comfortable hurting harming, being vile, nasty, mean

So comfortable

in a way that is foreign, at least to me.

That way of being is home for you, but is not for me

but I should've realized earlier what I would get from you

after what you did to Bea.

And you're not that sorry about it, so I should know that when you say it

out of obligation

what it'll mean when you say it to me. .................

I guess I'm afraid of you

Intimidated by your intimidation

Manipulated by your manipulations

I pick eggshells from the floor

I guess I'm afraid of you.


But most people would be if they saw what I saw, if they knew you like I do.


True Story

It's ok to tell the truth.

It's ok to tell the truth.

Integrity lives in truth, not behind closed doors, left out details, hiding under hushed tones

But in something that is honest

inside and out.

Love lives in truth,

Freedom lives in truth.

I live in truth.

You can live in truth.

Living real, living honest,

I keep asking you,

Who do you wanna be?

As long as it's real, you don't have to be afraid to let people see.


Non-Stop

Jan 22

Jan 25,

Jan 28,

Jan 28,

Jan 29,

Jan 29,

Jan 30 Feb 7

You just couldn't stop, could you? You just keep on going.

You're a man that keeps on going.

You should be proud.


The Taurus, The Libra & The Cancer


Lucy holds my hand at the doctor

She's ever so the optimist now.

A few months of sun and hippie dippie shit has her thinking positive thoughts only

And she refuses to let even the smallest frown come to fruition on my face.


"You'll be ok and if not we could write a musical or a play called the Taurus, the Libra, and the cancer.

It can be about something we share that is slowly killing us both or driving us both insane, or it's a man who is a Cancer and the center of our love triangle. Or us as parents with a kid who's a Cancer. Are our signs compatible? "

I say "Sorry bud, Libra's only good with Libra, Aquarius, Aries and Leos. "

But I appreciate the offer. She continues to ramble.


She tells me about this article in the New York Times she read about herd animals and this woman who runs / creates a community home for women who've been abused after escaping her own abusive husband. She talks about herd animals needing to stay together. I've read it already I tell her.


She said "Then consider us horse girls for life. When this is over we'll ride horses in Mexico and go on some peyote retreat. Then we'll get discount BBLs and come back to America and display the goods at another House of Yes Beyonce night"

Her nonsense helps distract over all the beeping. It helps pass time.

She said “You were born Friday the 13th,

it's kind of spooky, but it must be kind of lucky too, right?”

 

And the doctor calls me in and in a few minutes I'm back out

I am heaviness throughout

And a few weeks later.

Lucy's in my garden

we're dancing to something by Meg the Stallion

Grateful we can stay where we are.


The View from Up Here


Tucker and I play a show at Canela's on Friday nights.

Ben and I rehearse a scene from How I Met Your Mother.

Rose and I squabble over best chicken sandwiches in the city.

Title always goes to Sweet Chick Prospect Heights.

There's something here in the peaks.


I run a few miles through the park in honor of Jen finishing a Brooklyn Half Marathon

I'm in a South Slope gay bar, Chappell Roan is playing

I dance with Liz and Nina to Femininomenon


I'm at BRIC Jazz fest with Jimmy, drunkenly telling stories between the shows.

I'm at a poetry slam with Julia then at a bar in Park Slope.

Freeing Palestine with Amelia in Astoria

and I rave about Challengers walking home from the Alamo

Rose and I laugh watching an Elvis Costello music video,

We dance at a Cowboy Carter listening party in my little home.

It feels good to be.


There's something here in the peaks.


Bailey and I drive to Cold Spring and hike over 1000 feet

We haven't reached the top yet, but my feet are shaking during the last stretch

up to the final peak

When I say we're good to go, she digs her paws into the ground

Her eyes saying “Keep going,

We're almost there. A little further now.

And five minutes later, we're greeted by mountains, a dark river, and tiny homes sprawled across like dots on a map across the valley.


And somewhere between the peaks, there's a little bit of peace.


Michael, a Good one, a Very Good One


Just so you know,

I thought that joke you told about the old man with grizzly voice yelling at you from the bus stop was very funny.

I was just on another planet that day and I couldn't feel the laughter in me.

 

And I liked you and me and Scott and the three-some we may have been forming

It was so modern

So Brooklyn, Three's company-coded

We were such good friends, all of us, but I think knew what you were thinking.

When you asked me about my favorite movie or why I watch so many films

And I realized no one had ever asked before

And I went into this whole thing

about how my mom was on this date and I snuck into the theatre next door

and they were playing Lord of the Rings.

And I was so enamored, so in love with it all

Like a little kid for the first time hearing music

And I was so glued to my seat that my mother had to nearly pull me out of it when it was time to leave.

And how rude it was cause the movie hadn't even ended

I must've been 7,

but I felt something new and it it was real and that was it.

That was the moment I fell in love with film.

And I'd hide in the movies ever since.


And you listened to that whole story

Like it wasn't silly, from start to finish

As if to you, I was an actual person.

And you wanted to know me, just for me, just to know me, not really for anything, not for benefits.

 

You made me watch this movie.

You said I'd like it.

It's about a superhero formed from toxic waste.

I think I got what you were trying to say.

But it was so awful And I told you to never speak to me again after the first 7 minutes

And you touched my hand half-heartedly apologetic

And I think I knew what you were thinking


But then I got sick again

And I had a lot of trouble, breathing, and eating and sleeping and many other simple things

And we really didn't talk for a long while after that

And I get it.


It wasn't you.

I know I couldn’t even I wanted to

I told you... at the pit, there's something in there broken, afflicted.

If it was 5 years ago, I think it'd be different.


And I think that the way you were asking that kind of question

about me

and listening

was maybe your way of saying you loved me a little bit.

But there was somethin burning through me and I didn't want to hurt you with all of that.


If I could Avenge it,

If I could make it less Toxic,

If I could go back and change it,

I think I could probably love you back.


But you are a good one, a very good one.

I've seen the worst before

So I know you are different.

I know you're a very good person.


Untitled 2

I'd love you

I'd love you

and if you were queer

and if you're in fear

and if you keep buying the cheap kind of beer

and if you burn the potatoes

and if you crush my tomatoes

and if you wanna run away for a year.

I'd love you.


I love you.

I love you.

I do.

Big

like a fat bottomed baby

Pure

like a little kid.

I love you.

When I say it, and I don't say it a lot,

but when I do

I mean it.


Fleabag Season 2

You can run a race

Grow your hair long

Meditate

Take an art class


Do more therapy

Say you've changed

Say you've learned after all of this time

Say you love yourself

And that's what you say and that's how it started out.


Doesn't mean you're good (ok) now.

Doesn't mean it's sorted out.

Doesn't mean you sleep sound.

Doesn't mean much when you're in your head every day

When you're masking with humor because you're scared and still freaking out

about all of those things.


When you're still selfish and reckless and make bad decisions.

You can't face your grief, your big bad, your year, your shame Falling into holy lovers,

Running from yourself

Hopping all around

Bouncing like a flea

Fleeing from a sinking ship

Hoping someone will else will build you

yet another life raft,

And tell you what to do, "what to wear every morning, what to eat, what to like, what to hate,

what to

rage about.

What to listen to, what band to like"

Help you with everything

because secretly you need it.

When you are internal chaos and can't bring yourself steadiness.


But you run.

You do yoga.

You go to the art class.

You meditate.

It's simpler, easier to say

Easier that way. Even if it's a delusion and even if nothing's really changed.


Taurus , Earth Queen


My three best friends all brown-skin Taurus girls, Jax, Dash, and Rose.

An odd coincidence, or fate, or something like it.

I don't quite know.

But Taurus girls you are so determined, so consistent, so reliable.

Under a spring sky or a summer storm, you're steady, solid as the ground below.


You keep my spirit warm.

I'd fall through a crack in the Earth if it wasn't for your hard heads and steady hands holding me so close.



Killer Whales/Drunk Drivers

When we were kids, I saved your life once.


When you drove with me to the movies last week,

During the pre-show, you saw me fading and started asking me all these questions to bring me back in.

You ask me why I looked so depleted, like all the magic had been spent away or given and the clock had struck midnight and I was suddenly a pumpkin.

And I tell you about getting her the job, all the shows, and all the other things

And how I'm tired from always being so resilient and enduring so much pain.

You ask me if I think it's strong to keep making my way through it.

And at the time, I thought so.

I was so strong to speak up, to patch myself up so quick, and forgive and let it go.

But now, it seems with overuse, all that

seems like a weakness.

And you say, I think strength is going through everything you've been through and still being able to laugh. I think you’re strong if you can do that.

You surprise me with your wisdom some times.

The movie starts.

You put your hand on my knee as it starts to shake , as if to say 'It's ok. You're safe.'

On the drive, you play All-American Rejects and we make fun of the pop-punk singer vocals.

You play Drunk Drivers-/ Killer Whales and we sing to all of Brooklyn out the window.


When we were older, you saved my life.


Black Zine Festival Poems


If you don't have anger, you have privilege.

You can watch it all without fury , without pain.

You sleep soundly

I sleep always with rage.


From my mama's mama to her mama's mama

They're with me simmering, brewing storms in my chest. How do I rest?


......... I'll never let my anger free

Only white man can do that without consequence

Another way that whiteness put me in a cage

Is she a savage when she opens her mouth

or is she brave?

............


What was that Outkast lyric? Y'all don't wanna hear me. You just wanna dance.


You sing my Solange

You sing my Nina

You shake your hips to my 'Yonce

My Janelle helps you feel free.

I sing them too.

They mean so much to me.

But I also sing Springsteen, The Cure, and a bunch of Beatles tunes.

And I could sing for years

but never have the sweetness in my voice that you do.


But it's what happens when I speak, that seems so strange so funny?

When I speak, you seem to be aloof?

When I speak, your ears suffer sudden deafness upon the presentation of an uncomfortable (for you) truth.

Was it too real when it was like this for you.


Cause it seems to me that

You love my pretty songs,

but you hate my speech.

You love my pretty songs.

But you don't quite love me.

You like it when I keep you entertained,

but you don't wanna hear me teach.

You love my pretty songs, but you hate it when I speak.

............


Angry black women are not born, they are made.

Even with the trauma housed in our ancestral spaces,

we pray to the world and hope for graces

that are never promised and are never given to my dearest black girls and black women.


I was light , I was love. I was joy. I was peace.

I was a warm fireplace and restful sleep.

I was water in a desert and a poem so simple you could even say in your sleep.

I was a young black girl with a smile in my heart and music in my feet.


And I understand you didn't work for your joy,

And in your mind to keep it, meant you had to be naive.

But black girls work for joy, work for everything, work for outer and inner and world peace.

And I earned it and I loved it

cause it meant for a little while I was free.


And the world with its big powerful hand clawed it all out of me

Took the fruits from my apple tree

Hung me up so full of its cruelty


And when I spoke up, the world took my heart and it spat at me.

I was joy, I was light, I was a black girl, joyful, peaceful, happy

and you world made me a woman

black

angry.


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