I listen to your words
Angry, sullen and revolutionary words
You want change
And
You want it now
I hear your words
You scream at the injustice
Of your childhood
Absent father
Drug addicted sister
And you had to eat free lunch at school
I taste your words
Bitter and hungry at the same time
You wound the ear
In tirades
Leaving a trail
Of vowels
Not ink
For that last too long
Establishmentarianism
Which you are against
Form and substance
Eaten and spewed back out
I smell your words
Categorically denied
That you are also tomorrow
For tomorrow brings a new fight
A new struggle
Found deep
In your recycled bag
Of hemp and straw and lies
Green
Reclaimed
You rally for the latest buzz
I feel your words
Tight and hot
Quick and sharp words
Thorns on rose bushes unseen
Bleeding out the ones without knowledge
And then you leave for the next
March, next stage
In your gas guzzling SUV
Starbuck coffee in hand
A “spoken word” artist
And over your shoulder
You loudly accuse me of being
A “poet”.
Today I turned on my heat
Just a small flick of a button
And it was suddenly autumn
More than fall,
That happened when I
Turned off the air conditioning
But autumn
When a cool equinox occurs
And Saint Martin no longer smiles
In sunny warmth
Today I turned on my heat
The whispered tepidity
Stirred still green leaves
That jumped off branches
Too soon
In stead of waiting on new color
That would allow them to drift
Gently into mis-organized leaves
On the browning grass
Today I turned on my heat
The solemnity of change
Not loss on my body
My ankles need socks
They decry the cottons of summer
And long for argyles and woolens
I unpack flannels
And a bevy of long sleeve shirts
Today I turned on my heat
And the weight of a year
Fell across my shoulders
Autumn has brought me back
To the season of wearing socks to bed
And although I turned on my heat
It’s your warmth that I need
