WADING IN THE WATER
(to/for Julie Wedding)
Honesty is a crock
Of you know what—and I have a mishmash
Of regrets to certify the sad truths
My life has taught, I am usually
An optimistic person, sunny, bright
Outgoing, devoted to parents & friends, so
Why does life keep shitting on me?
Keep hobbling me like rice-sized rocks or corn
Kernels I can never dislodge from my sandals; I know, i
Know, if I wore socks, or better yet
Stockings, pebbles would not be a problem
I could easily dislodge the impediment shards
With a whisk of my wrist, slip back into
My work shoes and move on—but what is wrong
With sandals, with bare feet even, jeez
What is so wrong with being real, why
Do we have to dress up before people recognize
Who we are? besides what happens as we grow
Comfortable, well not really comfortable, as we
Settle in and become resigned to what we become
When we wear costumes, what happens?
Shit happens, that’s what happens
When you are no longer young twenty attractive
You’re on the begging side of attention
I’m convinced every man wants a girl and all
Of the fine fellas find women too difficult
Especially when we demand loving more substantial
Than a quick fuck, I’m sorry to say it like that, no
What I mean is, I’m sorry our lives are lived like that
I could be happy doing what I do well except
What I do well is not what is wanted
By those who certify pieces of paper
You can take to some money changing vault
In exchange for the best hours of your day
Being enchained to rules, rules and more
Infernal rules to keep you running but never arriving
The daily grind is what curdles the milk
And sours the wine of life, when I was driving
Home the last time I even thought of driving
Off a bridge were it not for filial responsibility
To a mother whose age I probably will never make
Not sanely at least—one day you will receive
A call, they will not say I am dead
That would be too much of a thankful release
They will simply say she was standing
In the river singing when the medics
Gently fished her out and committed her
I hope I am wrong about the future
But it is long past dawn and still
No sun is coming up
—kalamu ya salaam