no point in crying injustice
shooting off in public places
they are slack-handed and wet-eyed
with sympathy

can confession aid the process
the fellowship of mourners
propping themselves up
on heart-rending commiserations
brave corners bending
blank eyes staring

time waits for no man
it comes for you
alone you spit
yank your flaccid member
cry envious tears for
young folks caressing
at your side

strike back with amorphous ammunition
refuse the paisley-patterned despair
take the violate in hand
massage with the oils of
your heart valve
wash your battered spirit
in the salty extract
of self-pity
shore up the heart for the
thankless task of living
breathe through your nose
taste fruit with your tongue
loiter at crosswalks
while crowds pass by and laugh at the rush
of euphoria when your mother calls you
from a sweaty sleep

yawn loud
make noise
make love to the body you have
now bathe it in african oils
now dress it in royal cloth
now lay it in a single bed and listen for it
digesting raisins and bananas

full of your self get
ready to battle a raging fool
a venom-dripping motherfucker
lurks behind a green door of shame
and pain and guilt and bullshit

fight back with stuff that lasts
the melody in your head that massages your insides
the name jesus in repetition
toenail polish on sandaled feet

fight back with roughage
personal spinach
spiritual broccoli

call on herbs
ginseng for heartache
and seamoss coats the lining
of an empty stomach
hungry for full mouth kisses

medicate the time
the hours
the moments
with a mantra that
grows in your temples
and radiates your fibers
your busy weekdays
and quiet evenings

your own arms
against a sea of trouble
take them
wrap them
round and round
what belongs to you and
hold tight
hold tight
hold tight gently
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