These Are My People

I came back
to my house
before dark

after a day of being on fire and taking fire
from the people I’ve been told
I descend from.

Told by a lit match
to watch my
short fuse,

I think about
the long trail of sparks
stretching behind me.

Dark or light
I suppose
they are my family,

enraged or at peace although
they are more light when enraged,
more dark when at peace.

Meet the Reversal Family, the
inside-out clan. No one
can be happy unless all

are circling the drain
or the bonfire. Straight-up
equilibrium — everyone

minding themselves,
their business, helping
the others as needed? No need.

No one in the Reversal Family
needs anything except
the misery of the others.

and if you don’t share that you must be adopted,
alien, crazy, or free,
but you don’t get to choose.

Once home I try to forget
my allegedly short fuse and
that actual long trail of burning behind me

but I can smell it
in my sleep.
Everyone can.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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