White Girl, No Starbucks
Location
I don’t wear makeup everyday.
Please tell me how that’s your problem
Or mine, to fix
When my days flow clearly
Without mascara dusting dark edges around them
I see kids wearing caps
Like J. Beibes, because their eyes
Don’t sink back far enough in their head
Too afraid of people looking through windows
Seeing truth for what it is…
Y’know, I can’t stand “girl” deodorant
You still sweat
But you smell pretty?
Smelling all old-spice and tea-tree,
Wearing hoodies, string-drawn tight
My leather jacket sings to me
When my arms brush my sides
My breath coincides
With the tides
While walking to my book-keeper
In the Library
I like Graphic Novels
I can read just fine
Even though dyslexia turns long lines into loug l!ues
I’ve been reading Shakespeare since grade school
I watched Midsummer as a toddler
Books washed away my ignorance
Like a tide pool
There’s more than one kind of creature
Graphic novels lack pretentiousness
Pouring out modern novels like verbose slugs
I grew up learning conciseness chews your biases back
Opens eyes, throws away the keys
We made so long ago
To lock ourselves into assumption’s repetitious rhythm
I grew up learning authenticity demands individual truth
Where the-one-and-only truth lies
Until you reach one person
Out of 7 billion
I grew up learning my body is my racecar
Handling only-so much revving,
So much-remodeling,
So much change before I can’t recognize myself
Bearing my worst nightmare
Give me succinct sincerity
Where poetry flows clearly
Without mascara round the edges
Without ball cap hedges
Deodorant dredges
Ignorance’s wedges
Give me water
I’ll wash all this away
Till I’m rubbed raw
Raw, authentic, 100%
Who I want to be
Who I choose to be
And that will always be
Me