Monday, July 25, 2011
Day 328
12:24 am
–
thought balloon
–
I lived part of my life
inside the line of a bulb
hands, hold soft pulp
wrestle, hard fiction
the blonde spoke a hearty American,
diamond smile and apple pie
eyes, Betty was beloved by all
…but me
there was just something about
Veronica and all the black-with-
blue-reflector-haired beings
like her
she’s got to be one of us,
i was convinced
she spoke a fierce dialect of
Rebel, was only raving mad
because she lived the struggle
of the Other, the misunderstood,
wanted so badly to be the lark
of Main Street, but in the end
her tongue was far too strong,
too foreign, too judged
wrinkle the textbooks,
preserve floppy identities
I always knew there was a
reason I liked her, jumped into
her bulb, smoothed out the line,
made better sense of her words
–
–
tkk
–
–
