crazy((NPM2017 # 8)

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some days you can see  crazy

sitting cross the room grinning

legs crossed nails polished

bare assed naked

crazy light shining from its

good eye yeah you can smell

the metallic burned copper

smell of it running in blood

dancing naked on the road

lurking in the corner

of your mind waiting still naked

still naked

as it runs through your

family it knows your name

might come for you

you can see it some days

some days

when it’s not wrapped round

you so tight it pulls

you under the line

to watch

it makes piles of

things you can’t see most times

things in the middle of the room

piled up covering windows

sometimes you inhale deeply

shaking it off momentarily

you can see it

clearly

in those moments you stretch

take up all the room

realizing you have been

crouching in a corner you stand

stretching out your arms extending

your fingers you pluck at its web

pull it down and trample it

if you are quick enough

you may open a space

for sanity to awaken

save you

from the blue tide

the red funk

the bright orange reality

the white bright abyss

the need for midnight

blue velvet to pull around

you like a curtain hiding

crazy piling things in the corner

invisible  & everywhere

everywhere & invisible

running through

your family

snickering at you from a

distance

skipping ’round naked

 

 

About Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

I create; therefore I am.
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