untitled

always feeling the fate of
worlds bearing down
kilotons of importance
whiring towards me; some
answers are not easy or
ready, feeling full my
deficiencies.

i know what Langston would say

If, lacking soul,
your feet are constrained,
perhaps for culture
you feel disdain.

but if you don't like rhythm,
simple and plain,

DON'T MOVE TO HARLEM!


(dedicated to the drummers in Marcus Garvey Park. And the gentrifiers who hate on African drumming therein.)

perfection

the reliable rhythm
of deliver ball,
catch and return.

eyes untrained may
glance, then look
away, not learn

what amazing feats
are contained in
moments of constance.

Beset

Beset

FOUNTAINS
We hold SPARKLER
these truths IED
to be AK47
self evident ROMAN CANDLE
that all men LAND MINE
are created ROCKETS
equal PINWHEEL
and are CLUSTER
BOMB

What Maxwell Smart taught me

Sometimes, the old ways are
the best ways, but measuring
past to present constantly
could suck the joy out of it.
don't forget your
shoe phone.
and keep trying.

parking

parking

exhilaration rushes through limbs
as i carefully weave through avenues
hydrants, from overeager traffic cops.
find sacred secret place
meant for resting.
slide, turn wheel
car locks with pavement.
perfection.

why?

Sammy Ellie Lucy Unnamed Son
Sarah Bryan the Boys Skylar
Laree Captain Squishy Elie Michal
smiling elevator david the ones
at shul, the ones in need,
ones everywhere, and especially
you.

first rays

I stay up,

eyes straining towards the sky.

the light purple announces your nearing presence,

your heat curving around the contours of the planet

to begin to warm the day.

if only i could greet you this way every morning.

chlorofil

My favorite time
each day

hitting the sidewalks
for

a closer look

at leaves

I've poured over

like dead sea scrolls

discovered beneath my doorstep.

I stare in amazement,

wondering what makes them
today's color green,

and shade
will they be
tomorrow?

No method to their beauty yet.

I just hope to be along for the ride
a little longer.

galut

galut

i have tasted promised lands

danced on the shores of rivers
rolled back
for the continuation of life.

i have seen before
and after.

I have eyes opened
to contradictions,

to beauty
that comes with a price,

i have danced to funeral songs
on second lines
i didn't think existed,

enjoyed the views
created by madmen.

i have seen the fruits
of occupation

felt the sting as they slipped
down my throat

i have danced instead of marched
i have followed the curves
of roads that terrified me.

i have eaten fried chicken
next to destroyed schools.

and yet,

i yearn for that beauty

i burn for those songs,
those smells,

i want to drive those roads again.

to dance.
to return.

to taste promise once more.