i’m not gonna lie…i cried a little bit watching this
Check out this video: Yes We Can Obama Song by Will.I.Am

::: a rant

because last night he took away my bowl of water too early
because the shape of the faces and the smell of the bodies
because the gleeful pour of palm wine and the cool smooth of the gourd
because all the laughs and light spirit cannot be revived in the microwave

and how many ways can a poet describe the yam crusted on her nail polish
and how many ways can you plead with no words
and how many thin spears of bone must you swallow
and how many must pierce through your cheek

because on my cluttered kitchen table there is no bowl of warm water
because alone in my dining room there are no dark eyes gleaming
because i ate all the plantain at the restaurant and there is no sweet left for my tongue
because i wanted to write a happy poem because happy is more attractive than the sullen and numb

because i woke up to plastic
because now i prefer it
because i’ll wait
because the train stops running after midnight
because i’ll wait anyway
because his face when i mixed in the coconut rice
because i’ll tell the truth until my tongue hurts and then i’ll say nothing at all
because i should have worn the august armor
because i should not have called should not have told should not have done
because i have no regrets
because what i ingest becomes a part of my body

because i should have ordered peanut soup

because i should have known

because i knew

because i pledge allegiance
because i hum elegiac

and how many shades can a poet paint
and how many days can she blink away
and how many hearts must she offer
to make the perfect stew
and how will the fufu dry on my fingers
and how dry must i be

Sometimes I do not understand. I was so earnest, so sincere.

There is always room for revision.

With all I dare to set forth in words, it is a wonder how much I still let go unsaid.

And so what that we sewed lashes on the eyelids of the moon?
dilated the sky’s cervix and climbed high inside Her womb
In June, I was Oshun, and I applied the night’s perfume
to the hollow of my collarbone and invited him to prune
away the shadow shroud I plied upon my loom
And so what that we ignited violet branches in my room?
shook the blooms asunder, blanched the thunder with our tune
We were titans hiding in the shrubs that line the tombs
of Babylon, playful in our nakedness we prattled
daft about how craftily we painted parallaxes
I watched him raptly humming he’d already won the battle
contemplating atoms and his brandied Adam’s apple
But no matter had we splattered the canvases of Saturn
built pyramids on Pluto, or graffitied Venus caverns
He sees me no cosmic sovereign though I jewel his crown with stars
A glitterfaced infatuate catching drinks slid down the bar
So no matter that we flattered ourselves splintors of the fracture
between the ribs of Eden and the breath of heaven’s blackbirds
I am gigglethroated gloater straddling to ease his backhurts
licking ligaments and knees ripped on the edge of April’s laughter

And so what that I refuse to glue back the glass that shattered?
I am prismskinned remembrance staining days with my refraction