March 2012

A Break

You don’t have to come
back here mixing my pot
lesson learned flail fists
are good for nothing
except wooden spoons
beating thoughts whipping
human communication out
of the sector for united
division getting all AMEN
on your ass I’m nothing
synced can’t flow back
to my momma the canal
of fury birth wears a disaster
in the soil under the feet
of all women as is life
I am man in an age of pot
I mean a melting pot sticky
as we tumble onto each other
like dumb geese on the bank
of a hot boiling lake.