o Farrah pharaoh:
the feather up and off
your shoulder—
an absence of pressure.
but the weight
of the guitar and the bass,
the synth and kit—
the all that was all you
ever wanted to do. the disco
video grain like a leopard skin
or baby powder
tossed at an afro.
someone
blowing in your face gently—
maybe the 80s you were coursing.
you keep changing parts—
this one that,
mother and sister, too.
was it you wanted as easy as making
something not you speak you
you spoke it —you say—maybe first:
if you love
you get loved.
the spangle in the air shine
before the light shine it.
the tips of your hair
coming back with they own air.
I really like the other poems I've read by Mr. Kearney. But this one is not reaching me. Maybe it's because I'm not a Prince fan...
ReplyDeleteI like the idea of being before being: "Not you speak," "Shine before the light shine," or maybe "Coming back with their own air." Maybe a play on Heir. Prince being Heir to himself? Too much of a stretch? I almost walked away from this poem, but decided to give it another read.