I am window
with bars and lace
and pink secret
black petroleum
bucket of bay mussels
rotting in August sun
I am foreign
banana plant
from seed
Auntie slips me
an envelope
inside is a
hundred dollar bill
for helping her
file weekly
I accept with
both hands
thinking
it's too much
Today the
sun'll be eclipsed
but I cannot see
so I sit in the
small yard
smoking just to keep
everything off of me
Nothing of sixteen
was sweet
crack thru black
metal guardian
crack top heineken
with my thumb
indentation,
always a man yells
somewhere over
the wall
the walls are
plentiful
like amendments
between people
and their words,
strawberry stamp
a thank you
note for little
coordination
younger you and I
push a cart
onto a corner
to drink tea
and
build up
strangers by the
sidewalk --
a pavilion erected
on vine holds
no chess games
just mates
I know
what has
happened to
my vision --
when I speak
to you I am
left dazzled
can only hear
a single white
beater reflecting
sun on a line
vast elephant
weed becomes
a tree through
neglect --
and so father
must climb and
cut and chop
while white
neighbors through
branches peek
now it's over
the roof
so now it's
too late
to unroot!
while I
sweat the
grasshopper eats
sunflower
leaves.
