Daily Archives: September 16, 2015

The Business Of Profiling

– for Ahmed Mohamed, all who came before him, and all those yet to come…

Excuse me, Mr. Chimera — won’t you 
smile for the camera?
Won’t you please smile, Mr. Chimera?
How many beasts strong are you, 
Mr. Chimera? How many beasts 
do you harbor inside?

We must deconstruct you 
like a problematic sentence,
ensure that every word
is analyzed for bullets and grudge;

is it tick, tick, tick
or tick, tock, tick, tock
we are hearing, Mr. Chimera? 

Are you bomb
or timepiece, timepiece or bomb?

Your outside makes us fear
what might be inside…
what’s inside you, Mr. Chimera,
what’s inside?

Are you angry enough 
to explode now,
or are you just growing toward fire
later on?  

Two choices, Mr. Chimera;
two choices, no in between, no 
alternative. It’s beyond our imagination
that we might not be right
and if there’s a chance we are right
we must act as if it is a certainty,

no matter how odd or angry
that seems to you. 
We’re not sorry at our lack of remorse:
the forms must be followed, Mr. Chimera,
the forms must be followed…

So won’t you smile, nod, 
dress right, Mr, Chimera;
won’t you stand with your hands
behind your back in your natural stance,
Mr. Chimera?  Why won’t you smile,
Mr. Chimera? Why don’t you smile?
Why can’t we get you to smile? 


Moment

I beg on the street:

May I have a moment?

Given one, I say

Thank you.
Thank you
for giving me
this moment.
I will take it 
and pocket it
and hold it close 
until I need it.

Perhaps I will never need it
and if so I will keep it
until the end of my life.
I might want it again then,
or I might not; if the latter is so

it will become my last will’s
only bequest: 

.”..in the matter of the moment
I was given freely
by another to use as I pleased, 
I am pleased to pass on to… “

Some folks will say this is ridiculous;

those are the ones
who have likely had
a life full of moments
in such abundance
that they spent them foolishly.

Still, they always seem to die
still rich in them, flush with them, 
enough moments remaining at the end
to line their caskets with time enough to waste,
even in the grave; meanwhile

the rest of us who have had to savor
the lean banquets of our days, our stolen
slim margins, our nails bitten to blood
waiting for checks to clear and bills
to hold off one more day; those of us
without many moments of our own — 
I speak for all of us when I say that

if I may have a moment
it will be golden to me,
if I may have a moment
know that I will not spend it foolishly.

And if it goes unspent
I will offer it to you, my love,
heir of all my stolen moments.
We never had enough time together
between hard jobs and long commutes 
and worry and famine and struggle.

If someday we can no longer share
stolen or begged
or borrowed moments, rest assured 

that I shall leave all I have
to you.