THE WORD

I didn’t know what else to do and so I did the only thing I know well. This is for Chibuihe Obi. This is for people that won’t keep quiet. This is for all of us.

THE WORD

The word is a soft rock rolling across the sky

Rolling, rolling, rolling

Rolls right at you and stamps the moment

Across your chest –

We’re Queer, We’re Here…

This week you made the greatest mistake

Of your life and said

I love you, do you love me?

To hope is to dream and everyone is a dreamer

The word stretches your body and

Squeezes the present in its palm as when a boy

Crumples a sheet of paper and tosses it out the window

Or across the room into the bin;

Arrests your soul, takes it to a place

Where beginnings and endings are merged

In a single moment, beat together

Like dough in the community bakery down the street.

The word is the breath of god whispering life

Into his creatures and you want to breathe the word

But it is stuffed down your throat

A hot ball that bleeds the heart

Hanging solidly in-between

Then rising and rising and snatching the air from your lungs.

The word has no taste.

The word won’t digest.

In a frenzy, you write:

I am angry…

I am scared…

I am sad…

I want to cry…

To hope is to dream and this week

You made the biggest mistake of your life and said

I love you, do you love me?

Wrecking a brilliant friendship

The word is a dungeon in the air

And everyone likes to dream but

That has become too dangerous

And so now we just surrender our lives and die,

A single bullet

Shot at the very heart of paradise

And the angels leave their posts

And run for cover and it is such a pitiful sight.

In a frenzy, you write:

God is dead!

Written by Atanda