MADE FOR YOU AND ME 1: hive Being (Stanzas 2016—part 1)

Let's workshop this bitch!

hive Being

yard sale dentures

construction-site catcalls 

dying on a treadmill

the echo of tattered flyers
flapping in the captive winds
coiling the subway corridor

the state champion pig, laid out
by gravity in the shaded mud,
oblivious to onlookers pointing

limp-wristed ridge-hand slaps
of gimped-out spastics
to their own upper chests

the first preschool drop-off, 
watching him from a window 
navigate the world without you 

eating out that asshole like
an emaciated Sudanese child
but without a vulture lurking

jail-yard snowball fight

not coals but Legos for the playroom fire walk

ask a bum for a buck before he asks you for one

despite having convinced ourselves that our protest is for the cause—
left, right, green, freedom of speech, anti-bigotry, or so on—many of us,
at least a percentage non-trivial, are there for the saturnalia of violence

is America still America
when in the mirror
it sees nothing foreign?

is anyone ready for this—
even God, thrown into this
by its very definition?

Special Olympians charge onward with purpose, 
with meaning—and so why not the rest of us too
after the ascendance of our artificial superiors?

is there any greater compliment
to some other than to fall asleep
under the touch of that other?

*This is a portion of an ongoing mosaic poem called Made for You and Me. This portion is from the first installment: hive Being (Stanzas 2016-2020). More specifically, it is from the 2016 portion of that five-part work.

Photo is by none other than Kevin Carter who, in part due to the stickiness of images like these, killed himself years ago.