After The Rain

Oh, Köln… You are so foreign.
Your words are not my words.
Your people are not my people.
What are we doing together?

I was a PLAN,
“God’s PLAN,”
they said.

unlike other famous poets,
I was not born ugly.
In fact, I was angelic,
of the Michael Angelo variety.
I became – I grew into
my Disgusting-ness.

you can not kill our gods
you must kill us, because
you can not kill our spirits.

monday awake
[for the factory’s sake]
but tuesday lies
in the same way
all your teachers lied…

Occupation of the occupier,
colonialism is a culture shared

you were right all along,
‘them holes’re all that’s real’
and the love i feel,
goes in to fill…
them holes that fell
when I was 12.

stability is only
insecurity upside-down
(i’m a little glad
i’ve given up being sad)

disenfranchisement, differentiated
splits tree trunks in half
despoliation at home, in bed
left over from the vote,
left over from the voices in my head.