May 27, 2010. 5:57 am
I saw it change from black to sky before my eyes.
What a busy world I’m slothing through.
I tossed a tired butt on the bike path
just to prove I was up first—
not groggy, just sloppy-eyed.
My final drag sends my gaze towards the glow
—those vapors are hard at work,
clocking in after I’ve clocked out for the last time.
But I don’t mind;
There’s no shame in this hike to bed.
I’ll split my pillow wide
once I pass this pathetic jogger.
“Deep”
Such a July night, it’s sticky.
not sugary sweet like Harlem- Sorry Langston-
think deep.
Get out the atlas if you need it,
and trace the veins from the heartland to the swampy toes
of “freedom”- see that they’ve been neglected
with snarling nails, and the burning crosses
just adds to the athlete’s foot.
Skip the scenic drive down the coastline;
there’s no (room/need) for your convertible,
not in this jungle humidity.
Stop tracing once you see patriarchy and mansions,
once you smell bourbon.
And remember, your cotton collared shirt
was picked from this baked landscape,
and ripped from its mother in the deep.
a haiku
Longboarding barefoot
I can’t afford to slow down.
No shoes, no service
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