iAM POETRY 2020
Where are we headed? Next stop: real talk Pay attention to the man who won’t come in Has his lady shouting “Let me do my thing.” She’s dressed in a suit Her man in broken boots As he steps on the brakes Fleeing from the truth Next stop: fallen At the bottom there’s a whole bunch of us broken Vomiting our dreams Lying to the homies about where we been Ashamed to show weakness Cause the the culture lies in pride Cause our fragility should remain a secret Cause you can’t pond what others don’t want But yo they got soul here. I see pain in gold pieces Beauty in trash cans Wisdom in empty cartons Yo they got soul here. Women and children with broken visions of human potential. Astonishing addictions That look like stories of rags to riches But they got ditches? With their family names on diamond coffins Drowning in despair Losing their hairPoor man carrying a message in a bottle That he found washed up on the shore of the streets. Next stop: clarity Who I call “Lucid Lucy” She makes it easy to feel like you’re needed... “Come from over there” My momma says as we’re leaving.
p. 45
“Express on the Express”
