You can’t stop mourning
everything all the time.
The 90s, the black Maxima with a tail,
CD wrappers, proximity to the earth.
Glamour and sweating in your sheets.
Speaking tongues. JLo even. Men even.
You are a woman now
but you have always had skin.
Here are some ways in which
you are not free: the interiors
are all wrong, you are a drought
sprawling. When you see god
you don’t like what you see.
It is never enough to be born
again and again.
You like it at church when
strangers hold your hand.
You have a mouth men bless.
You look good enough to bury.
The author’s work can be found in the volume, There are More Beautiful Things Than Beyonce.
Think about how the poem made you feel. Do you similarly wax nostalgic for whatever decade your “90s” were in? What are you currently mourning? Or is it something that has not yet left you?
May you live out another beautiful poem in the collection of your life today, and we’ll see you again tomorrow.