The Poetry Marathon

I was driving down the highway and prayed for souls of roadkill and search for beauty every day. The eternal question beseeched daily. Who gives a fuck. The fireflies of summer dance in memory of dusk diamonds dancing in the weeds. The apartment was once the home of a batterer.2 old ladies and a Negroe star who fell to Broadway lights and a Jamaican who skin popped my brother with heroin. Mr Hayes played with Satchimo and boy do I have the blues. Elijah Muhammad gave me a nickel to buy a bean pie. Ain’t life grande said the Jew store keeper who wanted in my panties at 12.

Love the lord or get the fuck out of my house. I conceded and remembered wading in a pool of water the size of a backend of a sauna and cloudy with a dead rat floating by with roaches trailing behind. I baptism thee in the Name of the…I didn’t want my hair to nap up and I knew my Mother waited patiently on the other side with sunglasses, a migraine, and a moldy towel. Just get it over was all she said.

My Father held me under what seemed an eternity. Damn, my hair got wet and what was the point of all this…oh yeah, I needed a place to stay and my soul wouldn’t go to hell…I pulled at his fisherman boots and glub, damn roach rat water.Hallelujah! I’m saved and waded in the water…Oh yeah daddy, can I read the porn in the trunk of your car?

I once was lost and now am found…Momma can I have a drink too?i had a rough day and I can go to heaven now. I had a double scoop at Velvet Freeze, lemon and bubblegum. My favorite instead. I wore an Afro the next day to gym that morning. Was blind, but now I see.

Here I go, here I go, here I go again,

Making a case to normalcy

Open up the shoebox find the elixirs of life

Take them with spit to survive

Without go to pieces

After coffee, climb mountains

Takes guts to get old

Red pill, blue pill

Welcome to my world

Woke up and my ass was sore

Tired of running nowhere in my sleep

Perhaps daily reminders of how old I am

Flights and flights  and flights of stairs

Walk yourself here to there to somewhere

Curvy, hippy, muscles still there

Folks still make my ass sore with silly ways

Saying nothing about nothing’s not true

Stop lying, ouch, no, I don’t understand

The words coming out your mouth

Runnin away to get away

I wake up and my ass is sore

It could be me

Problems come with the human stain

Smack me on the butt and say

Shut up!

You sleep atop an old mattress

And boxes

The floor on day’s most heated

Be booty and blessed

You see another day

Sore ass

Morning coffee fills the air

l listened for you

Outside rumbles the grey skies

The pace quickens

I lay on the floor wrapped in sheets

All is silenced then clapped

I heard the thunder roar

Lightening flashed over my soul

Coffee your fading steps

Soft sheets about

Reminding me I am alone

Waking to thoughts of you

Naked

We few shall be

remembered

To love fully,completely

without

human stain

Ask me how I feel, how I

get turned on

like electricity

We few shall be

remembered

To know, five fingers

make a fist

Kismet, the imperical

context

hurling episode of

Abracadabra bile

We few shall be remembered.

To know, the nightmare

changes one

Get over the one thing

you hope for

Make a pass to save your

soul

We few shall be

remembered

To know evil is my

devine adversary

We were wrong in Vietnam

Don’t make me

feel like a train ticket

Fade to black

We few shall be

remembered

To know, taste, a grain of

sand

And death shall

have no

domain

I still think of you daily

counting each vertebrae with my fingertips

smooth was your touch and I held on like no tomorrow

 you didn’t let me go

tightened your grip about my waist

shameless was my caress

beautiful was that moment when you