I wish I could tell you that 25

means everything makes sense.
that you wont spend 2 1/2 months in jail
or break up with your love
and be left broken and frail.
i wish i could tell you that life will make sense
but i don’t know that life will ever make sense
i know it makes messes of men and good christian girls sin
it makes 13 yr old’s mothers loose new born babies to cocaine they bought on MLK and Broadway
it makes me upset that the most drug and gang infested street
was named after a man who endured too many violent threats and defeats
knowing that he may never see the day
where Laquetta and Trevonte won’t have to give up their seats
instead they’re giving up hope
because mom is working the corner and dad’s in jail still selling coke.Mariah i hope (you know)
that you are that one lit street light
in this ghetto ally way on the coldest night
you stand flickering, radiating warmth
to the war vet clutching his bagged recyclable treasures like a grenade
not knowing if he wants to die or be saved
radiating warmth
to the teenage prostitute spelling patriarchy with her tongue on the stomach of men twice her age with daughters just as young
radiating warmth to every young poet scribbling on coffee house napkins
to the goddess in me trying to breathe in the church but feeling trapped in

Mariah i don’t know that life will ever make sense
but i know that we are
where we are supposed to be
and that community is an ideal worth living for
even if its just you and me.
or you and her.
or me and Dan.


know what i mean?

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