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from “sometimes i wish i felt the side effects” by Danez Smith, Poetry Magazine March 2018

For the legs

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Garden for CLIMATE RESISTENCE.

Still halfway to nowhere, still nothing today

A Tibetan skeleton dancer, taken in 1925 by Joseph Rock.

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Let Myrtle stay a myth

Where did I learn to mourn?

They've sworn it is the thing to do

That grief is growth

That innocence piously lost

Is the right romantic rite

Of passage to the mountain of mature .

I wonder if I never learnt to weep

With wistfulness - an unreal word

That makes mockery of me -

Worn as a worshipped curse,

Duped of its demonic reality .

I wonder if I'm possessed

By pain,

Or is this just mental blame game

Because I find myself

mourning after mourning

It has a crippling clench. Even

Clarity, though plain to see,

is barred from reach

By clouds or ghosts .

I wish — no I shouldn't —

that is the language of mourning.

Let it go

Let me go.

Come join

Now that you know the worst in me. What will you do ? Do you trust me to fight for what's right?

Demizu Posuka  -   http://posuka.iinaa.net  -  https://twitter.com/DemizuPosuka