This bittersweet selection
Makes my septum piercing
Freeze in the cold, makes it
Dangle like a yad on a torah, and
much like my Rabbi, I use it to
read the text of your palm.
You warm my nose, I
trace your life line, fate line, heart line, and wonder
if they could intersect with my own someday, I
Leap from foot to foot,
Balancing a Stella in one hand
A Canon in the other, slow enough to
Watch sparklers tracing letters in the air,
Glittering like little independence days
Glowing like raving hypocrisy, lunacy
Shining in the sky of this "progressive” country
So progressive that this black man found shelter in the
Oval office, and yet, so "progressive"
That people made a conscious effort
To leave their homes and strip our rights,
Thank god Del is resting in dirt, thank god she didn’t
Live to see this embarrassment, and god bless
Phyllis, not even
On this momentous Wednesday
And if the lines in our palms find themselves intertwined,
Especially the heart lines,
You face burns like a sparkler lit for joy
Faith! you said.
Hope! you said.
Change! you said.
I watch results pile in like fat puppies
Stacking high on MSNBC
When? I said.
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