04/18/2020
Since we are locked in, our minds are set free. Covid19 Poetry collaboration with
In Camps Even Atheists Pray
Lynn Breedlove
All That Is, please guide us out of this darkness. In this moment crying. In this moment sure. Laughing, fu***ng, eating, replicating plates served by mothers. Channeling Ta**us full moon and dead moms and live dads, grounded forward going, get outta jail free, avoid jail entirely, make it happen magic, and glamour money fashion shine charm build-it action. True love always.
Bring Mandelas, Mumias, Panthers and Kings, bring Peltiers and Black Elks and Lame Deers. Bring Maya Angelou all aglow and how she says bring your ancestors with you into the room, and what will be read is power. Charisma.
All the angels, all the stars, all the ghosts of Sophie Scholl, the White Rose, von Stauffenberg, Anne Frank, and Marlene. All the nameless who gave a crust of bread to someone who wasn’t gonna live anyway. All the retro planets saying save your energy till late in the game and then slingshot it through the eye of despots, blow everything sky high at once, take out killers with our high powered books and Subcultural Standards of Beauty good looks. And if you’re lucky just keep reloading, picking off evil. Keep them in your sights, crosshairs the only cross you pray to or bear.
Leave behind a trail of stars to X marks the spot, to treasure, to hearts, to explosions of light, to true love coming in your fist, to high as a kite in your arms, to crying over the loss of all humans, all the qu**rs and trans, women and children, beasts and sky and water, last but not least, all the blue sky from the west down to the east. Blue, just how we see it from here. Blow it all up, and it’s a dream remembered by sentries at castles who look out at black starry skies and tell stories of what we learned there, then, on a green and blue rock, far away and once upon a time.
©2019, from 45 Thought Crimes
published by Manic D Press, San Francisco www.manicdpress.com