Wednesday, April 27, 2016

poem of the day 04.27.16

we’ll all make it?

black lesbians kiss
on the N train platform

while i just spent eight hours
having my ass handed to me

lowliest of the lowly public servants
it’s my fault for everything in the hoi polloi’s eyes

i can’t bear the sight of people
at the end of this sixth work day

can’t bear them when the work week starts

still i can’t help but watch these women
tongue wrestling in the sunshine
as if they’re the only ones really alive out here

maybe they are
i know i feel dead

and the rest of the people standing here
with their heads buried in their phones

well, they aren’t making the case for humanity either

i’d like to think we’ll all make it
the black lesbians in love
the people waiting on the N train
squandering these little lives we’ve been given

make it into something we can survive with

but one too many fall through the cracks
you can see them walking in a daze along the avenues

standing in those ministry pantry lines
suffering the word of god for a loaf of bread

hustling with change cups
singing old songs for a dime

on nearly every corner in this city
people with no hope sit covered in cardboard mansions
begging for money and beer and dignity


even my lovers waiting on the train have parted
and are arguing over some stupidity now

tongues sharp as blades
they cut away at the ties that bind

transgressions that form in the blink of an eye

screaming so loud
they’ve shaken the sun and stormed off

crushed that love like a bug

just as the lights of the train approach
and the rest of us walking dead
take the few steps forward toward the platform

ready to hang on the noose
of wherever oblivion will lead us next.


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