MADE FOR YOU AND ME 1: hive Being (Stanzas 2016—part 25)
Let's workshop this stanza sequence about abusing the disabled, Europan bacteria, temper tantrums, parents arguing in front of their child, capitalist gurus, fake wisemen, old tv commercials
a button dangling by its last thread in clitoral hope that he does fail, she whispers to the boy “I’ll fuck you up, nigga” if he fails to keep silent his down-syndrome sibling teddy discarded at her feet, the young girl— in pjs with arms aloft—scans the red faces screaming above her as if she were nothing an infant carrier superglued to the roof of a gold-rimmed Cadillac driven at a creep by a man with full-coverage sunglasses awaiting the dawn when careerism turns to being authentic Devry diplomas behind plexiglass food stamp allotment reduced when you go on the streets, because now you owe no rent impassioned platitudes from a fake sage, too simple ever to know them as such, can rankle the educated up a wall maharishis justify their steep rates with the idea that westerners value only what comes with a high price tag the risk of cutting something secretly valuable in the later editing the young need those around them who do not want to die, or at least are ashamed about wanting to die the impact of finding that even x, some eminent figure recently-dead, failed to be saved in the end mortified to reach out for help since being fat is not a glamorous problem and woman should love their bodies hours locked into footage of TV ads from bygone youth the rise of robots and our from-birth retirement afraid of music for what it might call up addicted to the fear of losing sobriety flipping the dinner table over flipping the dinner table over for having broken your pledge by throwing a glass beforehand flipping the dinner table over to punish her for having pissed you off despite knowing your temper struggles snatching the man’s one ragged rucksack left on the intersection island as he walks for loose change among cars at the red light the sinister transphobia of trans people who insist they be considered real—not trans—men or women “Yes, even bacteria on Europa would count as proof of life,” the pro-choice man responds to the pot stirrer, “because it can move around to get food and replicate” spoiling a child can ruin it, but just imagine the power of one who overcomes that handicap blocking memories disruptive to how you recount the relationship to be done with him once and for good is it bad, really, when sex becomes just something to do, like sending birthday cards to the grandkids?
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: aljazeera.com/features/2017/1/2/devil-boy-downs-syndrome-in-sierra-leone