Friday, November 01, 2019

Catch


tickles start in my palm, aim for my pits
catch in my throat: I am open, I let
my shame (shame) show

here are bugs leaking from my breath
like starry maps from blind eyes. O
I have lost my fingerprints

I must just be falling asleep I must be
falling falling falling into depths
or deaths. I don't

know the presidents who visit in my
dreams on boats shaped like me,
wooden as my smile. I fight

I find my freedom with my fists and feet
the slick of water still gets me though
entanglement, undertow

-



No comments:

Multicultural Metropole

Our class went to Metropolitan University for a talk with Sunny Singh today. I had the same soft argument with Sunny as I've previously...