Thursday, October 27, 2011

Poem for not letting the Robots get you.


and then I heard the boom boom

Can you hear the terrestrial heartbeat?
I heard it only once.

Mostly I hear the whirring of the broken air conditioner
creating clouds in the classroom with no windows,
the tap-shhhh-tap of the bicycle with broken gears
which I bought for two day’s pay,
the orange hum of Tapioca Tan
which dries out my neighbor
until her skin looks like cracked desert clay,
the brshhhhhzzzz of the phone
I wish I hadn’t put on vibrate
during the meeting I was late to,
the flicker buzzz of my neighbor’s tv
and I wonder what he’s watching
instead of looking up at the stars.

Are you pale sickly for want of the Sun?
The earth groans for its children.

We are zombies, the undead, interlopers between two worlds
and the buzz-shhaaa-creak-ding-ring-ping-don’t fucking miss the bus world is eating me alive.

I will never forget jumping off
a cliff in South Carolina into a rock quarry,
wearing pink Converse sneakers
so the water, hard as concrete, wouldn’t break my toes.
I jumped
fell
forever
shattered the glassy surface…

My ears filled with water
and I heard it.
boom boom.
boom boom.

The terrestrial heartbeat.


Cliff jumping in South Carolina, 2007

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