dovetail

it's supposed to mean  things  that slide
together, a perfect fit. imagine the craft
and care it takes to carve two sides
positive and negative, fore and aft

then turn them into one.  divisions
break the country, can't talk the talk
with her or him, they can't envision
how she and he have to walk the walk

and don't want to. hold on tightly to
policies of benefit, fishy water visible
only to those  with hooks tattooed
as skin , indelibly divisible.

so careful to defend, backsides
meet against rising tides.


























*

bleh broken sonnet again. i have to
remember now, silence. wear a mask don't
tell me what to do, i won't wear one
it only protects you. wear your skin
you have no choice, listen to the broken voices
begging you to see surface as facade.

bleh.


preachy.



i don't like preachers. i have no stories except this one...i went to the blm on the second day. the day after the looting of the mall. the day after the restaurant burned to the ground.

we were late to the party but you insisted we go.
we cruised mlking street slowly, pumpin fists to those
with signs as they dispersed, making our way to the park.
at the corner the traffic stopped. we were four cars
away from obstruction. no one was moving now.
you drive, you said, and got out of the car.
disappeared into the fray. fuck the po lice fuck the police
and someone poured gas on the pile of tires in
an abandoned gas station. no matches in sight.

a woman just trying to get her groceries stepped
out of the jeep in front of me. she has her white wig on,
looks around, worriedly . she ain't pumpin fists and
she's seen more than all these children in the streets.
gets back in her car. i light a cigarette. if the line moves
i'm leaving you here, even if this is your car.

she speaks to a girl walking by in the lanes.
the girl motions that she has to do a u turn
over the median if she wants to get out.

my cig's almost done when the cars begin
to move. it's a miracle and there you are
waving us on. i stop and you get in. what happened?

i walked up to the guy on the tires. he wearing a scary
skull and bones mask yelling po lice
fuck them. i shook my head at  him, at them. LOVE IS THE ANSWER
i told him. let me hold that sign for you. fuck off he says.
no, LOVE is the way to deal with this and i fall to my knees
in prayer, silent. they call me karen, taunt me but i don't care
what they think about me, i'm on a mission from god.
fuck you! they say, fuck you karen and i ask god what to do
then i just fall over. flat on my face.

they get real quiet then. concerned is she dead? is she ok?
does she need help? i lay there a few minutes

and that's when the traffic starts to move?

no. that didn't happen till i got up and ran over
to the graveyard. i called upon god to heal
with LOVE and as i spread my arms i could feel
all those souls laying there waiting for years
i could feel them come into my hands and through
my fingers i could feel the LOVE breaking
the bonds. that was when the traffic began to move.











i wish it were that simple. love carving us positive
and negative in the important places. wear a mask
to protect others. wear your skin, protected and served
by this country whose ideals are not yet realized.

does it make them less true that they were written
by slave holders? their words make it imperative
that we hold the country up to what  all men are created equal
actually means. we are trying to do this now. but it's a hard sell.
power refusing to see its origins. privelege its own hard shell.