You are the one who deflagrated our futures
The struggles were such burdensome tortures
I’m the baby y’threw out with the bath water
Turned out better than you thought I ought’er
A shiny diamond you could not rough it with
I’m a timeless heirloom look what you missed
This good samaritan was a pauper
Responding to the suffering of another
While the one-percenters walked away
Tightly holding onto their obscene wealth
Love thy neighbor, who is my neighbor
Anyone with whom I may share a moment
Anyone who may simply catch my eye
Empathy is at the heart of Golden Rule
Eternally directing all good hearts
A long line ties everything up.
It winds around the buildings.
Communicating something.
Is anyone inside?
Listening.
Holding hands and waiting?
One line lays on the ground and a young boy off his bike straddles it.
Talking to friends.
It’s an underground line.
Exposed just like the others.
They are hollow.
Like blood vessels.
As if your body were turned inside out
The building pulsating.
The ground, too.
Lines are life.
down at bohemian caverns
upstairs over the pharmacy
Rahsaan explodes the room
manzello, strich, nose flute
all blues, nothing abstract
multi-everything, humming
I never recovered
my poet is at once a total stranger
and one so familiar with new words
my poet is sudden, surprising
enchanting, comforting, precise
my poet is playful, iconoclastic
and exploring beyond categories
These black slippers
Bear witness to their age
Backs caved in
Fuzzy part’s gone
Old reliable must be worn
Bottoms wearing through
No traction when I walk
Longevity’s still valued
Like Willy Loman
Attention must be paid
when my mind is free-floating
I always take the long way home
the route secures a path for itself
disclosing what’s on my mind
the long way is a method for discovery
an interval to unravel the knotted twine
most of the time.