Daily Archives: October 9, 2019

Epitaphs

1.
It’s not like 
I made a good mark,
but more of a scuff — a sign
of clumsiness, accidental
reminder of my passage,
just squeaking through.

2.
Here lies (blank)…
if you are reading this,
clearly I am not
for if I could 
I’d be editing frantically
to keep you from seeing
such a paltry representation
of who I am.

3.
This plot holds
a parcel no longer full of lies,
a bone-box stripped
of spirit. It’s not worth
your time.  Nothing to see,
nothing to hear.

If you do see 
or hear anything, rest assured
it’s nothing. 

4.
If I had become wind
and you were still you,

I’d choose to be here.

If I’d become sun
and you were still you. 
I’d choose to be here.

I’ve become dead. I am here, 
but not by choice —

unlike you. I thank you for it.


How To Throw A Brick

First of all of course
you must choose the brick.
It can be any shape or size:

being yourself 
in an unexpected place,
one where you’ve been
forbidden, is often brick enough
to break some wall or window;

it may require
a bit more — the purchase
of a wedding cake,
a clothing choice no one foresaw,
stubborn insistence on a name or pronoun —
to crack a thicker wall or head
grown old and bitter
from long authority.

Next, the throw.
It should be overhand —
let it take flight, let it soar
over the ruins between you
and the target. Those
who fell before this time
will look up in the dark
and see a brighter sky and think
of a bird that can fly and land
wherever it wants;
they will rest easier.

You will not be alone in the fight.
Bricks that arc together land harder;
there are so many walls and windows to smash 
before they fully open the gates.

As for yourself in the aftermath?

You may retreat to save yourself
from what they do in response
but the ground where you stood remains yours;
though some may see it as a paradox,
you are also the brick you tossed,
a piece of something new yet to be built.