Literary Lounge

we try to be the thing,
try to string ourselves
into the seductive corsets
of people’s ideas of us.
eventually,
of course,
the breath and the belief
shallows
and we struggle.

we look in the mirror
twirl and accept
smile and exchange courtesies
and the breath shallows.

we struggle.
though we like the silhouette
and the attention,
we also like the person
who comes from behind
and releases
the hooks from the eyes,
pulls the strings.

we are loose
for this moment
and vulnerable
and afraid and vulnerable
and beautiful and loose and vulnerable
and fierce and vulnerable and alive and breathing…

and we like it.

at this moment
the corset waits
a floored undefined
fabric-over-bone thing
with no flesh to clinch
without our bodies to fill it up
without our bodies to hold
and we are still here.

we remain
and this is the fear.
we remain,
but how will we stand the gaze
or stand
or get accustomed
to deep…

her temple is scarred
from living a life of getting by
and a car accident at twelve.
but
it’s scarred in that way
where you never really notice it
but you can’t imagine her without it.
she’s seen many sails float away
and kissed them all on the mast head
before they did so.
she is a genuine piece of love
and generous.
leaves her fingerprints everywhere.
all curves and smooth flesh.
country
so everything she says
sounds like someone just ran
a hot comb through it.
she is gardenias and dogwoods and magnolias and honeysuckles
but not when they’re still attached to the branch.
when they have a rootless quality
and have been pinned in someone’s hair
or left to float in tap water
or had all their essence sucked out.
like that.
used, but still sweet.
or vise versa.

…

I smiled today because he said that school is his savior
Said he had changed his thug behavior
Cause he’s trying to take it higher than this (drug-free)
He will take it higher than the fly by night gun shots
Will take it higher than selling rocks
‘cause he saw that the scratching strangers were people …
Real-life people and not really anonymous fiends
He said the streets could eat you if you let them
‘cause there’s hunger in the concrete
But there’s starvation in his feet and his size eleven’s will
Eat the heavens
He’s hungry for a new reality and he said he’s going to make it himself
Going to mix it up
Chop it up
Knead it
He understands that needs this…
Book-learning
And he said
He said
“I’m gonna get that high school diploma, that…