True Friendship will always exist even when the specter of death looms between us. One Love. lmr
I want to
Turn you into a fire-
Escape poem written some
Angry summer night when sleep won't
Come & the rage of red sirens bleed inside
My eyes, throat, & eardrums. I want to fold this
Tangled up, jumbled up, fed up, fucked up frenzy
I call a feeling into a poem or some such assemblage of
Wordplay, even if editors will refuse to pay... & readers will never get it.
When a late-night
Drive-by shot another
Hole through Harlem's heart,
Where was I when the drama came
& every dream's light went dark... & CNN
Copped a station break? Sometimes my mind gets lost
Inside the static ache, but just so you know, upon that shattering news,
This whole world moved to a different beat, some slow-motion spectator
Claimed my face. . . & I wondered why I could not breathe... much less
Move from this place... I am in the center of your scream, Ant'nee!
I am in the echo of the shotgun's
Blast. I am in the exploding sound that
Came afterward. I am the shine of fearful eyes
Within that tragic front line. I am lost inside that night's melee. I am
That stun of surprise. I am that ache inside your mother's chest. I am that flickering
Heat. I am at the apex of that speeding fireball of pain. Yes. I am within that laser-like
Pain. I am caught between that cold blank stare of impending death.
No need to wonder where
I was, Ant'nee. What matters now
Is where I am. I am diving inside your
Body, where all your pain is manufactured.
I am a lone swimmer inside your thick river of bile.
I am that gagging gurgle of blood you are choking upon. I
Am not a graceful swimmer, but I am doing backstrokes inside
This gray ooze of murdered memory. I am drowning inside your
Splattered brain parts. I am floating within the pinkish chunks of
Your sensitivity. I am wading through the bullshit … oh so much bullshit!
I am vibrating within the viscera displayed inside the center of your scream.
Ant-nee, I am in
The rigid vogue of
Your dead limbs. I am
Caught & pinned against
The stiffening joints of your
Crumpled body. I am that cold slab
Of uncomfortable concrete. I am in the
Rising of petrified air. I am in the stink
Of your Air-Jordan'd feet. I am that deep hole
Ripped inside your trifling heart. I am that cool
White sheet. . . white breeze. . . white Light of
An angel's wings. But mostly, I have died, a little death...
& the echo to what's left of me resounds inside the center of your scream.