Now that everything’s in color folks claim they can finally see
the blues cherry-red notes on the march
for tomorrow
may never so we stretch yesterday
across seven Rubbermaids toss ’em in back for a rainy day
tattoo each one with her name
this mourning’s running late peering from behind
sunsets waiting on boys to notice
the stretcher
but boys busy settin’ fires in driveway
woman is buried in memes
we collect
the ashes
in thoughts
and prayer hands
burn it all down to raise the phoenix we feed it
her name across seven days it screeches
her
in an empty room
we chant crowds into space but lack for survival
in a cluster of patrons we fall short of shooting
stars in ashtrays
before brunch bottomless hipsters march on
MLK would say these chicken tenders taste like
freedom rings
in one size
suck it in
or drop
the weight of her name is too much
for boys so they leave her
for us
to carry