slam poem
You were probably too
fastmoving for windows
positioned in a corner
locking you out
locking you in.
Trees never looked
so green as that
day when your infantile
hands reached up &
over the bars of your crib
(you always had a taste for freedom).
You wanted to be
fastmoving like the light
like the sun
like the stars.
Understanding never came
so easy to you as that
day when the sun fell
out of the sky.
The world fell apart—
every plant turned black but
tears never graced your
grey-blue-storm eyes,
worry never crossed your infantile mind.
A crisis
they insisted.
A tragedy
they screamed.
as the world fell dark
& fluorescents lit
alleyways
churches
mountain tops &
you always told us that we
were never
close enough
to the sky
the moon
the stars.
Your observation skills had always surpassed those of the fire hydrants.
You would yell at me
yell at us
for being comical in times of heartbreak and that sun falling from that sky
you yelled
that was heartbreak on a massive scale.
You warned us about the oceans,
you warned us about the forests.
We would have to pour oil into the oceans, spread napalm on the forests (light them on fire)
just so we might have light for
a week
a day
an hour.
Because honey, we are human.
It’s not that we need to destroy, it’s that we need to create destruction. This is destruction by fire, this is trees falling away, oxygen becoming as rare as petrol.
This is a world-wide water shortage and no-more blue jeans.
I try to explain this to you & your infantile mind your
infantile hands still reaching for some light still
reaching for some understanding and honey, if you find it
lend me some.
