I am from cracked pots
From clay, uncentered
from dirty hands
I am from straight pins and standing straight
From no room to wiggle
or you will get “pricked”
I am from tag sales not garage sales
from hand-me-downs (but not too many)
from paper routes and owning cities
I am from a
pleasing
perfect
perspective
I am from shots and cigarettes
from my Grandpa’s bar
from the 4th Ward
filled with democratic asses.
I am from the cock that crows 3 times
from lying and denying
From dust to ash
From Sisters and Fathers
in black reverent dresses.
I am from fighting and
from surviving chaotic insanity
I am from the living and eventually dying
from something unseen
from my God.
Comments
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A wonderful concept for a poem very well execued. One small suggestion - think more about line breaks. They can be used to empasize the last word in a line by following it with a brief pause. With that in mind, look at the first line in the last stanza: does the word "and" deserve that emphasis? As always, it's your poem so you are free to take or ignore my comments. Write more. Buff
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I like this the way it is. I can't see anything that I'd change. It is a great write in my opinion and I loved every bit of it!
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