Tuesday, April 10, 2018

day FOUR HUNDRED and FORTY SIX

MY KORA

This is my kora
made of goat gut and great affection,
one grand sigh and every cloud that makes you smile.
It sings with the twang of insects, bird calls,
the hum of a nearby stream entering a river..

Don’t piss on beauty.
Love until it makes you sick.
Pick up your gourd and shake it until you shake the earth.
You didn’t put the monster into office.

You didn’t invite him into your house.

We can change everything.
We can sing until the terrorists in office hear only us.
We are that strong. We are that beautiful.
Open your mouth. Play my kora.
Let its spirit change the way they think.


--Michael Brownstein

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