Birthday Boxed In

Submitted by Dali on November 10, 2005 - 20:56.
The day before my birthday,
still, I lie here moving.
Legs crossed,
hand clutching pen,
stomach pressed on purple sheets.*
I've started drinking
and it aint even 7.

*purple sheets - Prince convinced me,
you see.

I want to tell you
how disappointed I am,
how mad I am,
how I just wanna yell, but
for some reason I can't.
I'm nauseous and I have cramps.
So, let's forget about me tellin',
and me yellin',
cause it's only 7.

Instead, let's look around
at all the music I've collected,
and all of the books I've neglected.
At all of the clothes I store on a ladder
cause my ass can't afford a closet.
Bullshit, that don't matter.

You know I have an altar, right?

Of course you do - my mix of Santeria,
Rastafari and Voodoo.

Those seven African Powers
burn through out the night
next to La Virgen de Guadalupe.
She watches Jah and Mary and Xochitl -
mi perra, my dog
who lies in ashes next to them
and barks every now and again.

!Aye! My stereos a blarrin'!
Chuck D's yellin' some political shit
I'll think about later, some political shit
I'll think about later, some political shit
I'll think about later, later and later.

When I'll take in what he and KRS-1,
Mos Def and Talib Kweli
have all said to me.
You see the political poems come later
when I feel safer and smarter
and not so weak, not so weak, not so weak.


(Mental Note to Self) Goddamn you a freak!

What was I talkin' about?
I forgot, it slipped my mind,
I got too into sippin' my wine.
That's a reoccurring theme these days -
"Sorry thoughts, you slipped my mind.
I wuz too busy sippin' my wine."
Ha, ha, ha.
Funny, considering I just lied for
the sake of this poem.
What I should have said was,
"Sorry thoughts, you slipped my mind.
I wuz too busy sippin on Ole E."
Lovely.


My ass can't afford wine these days.
I just got laid off yesterday.


And the joke Julian and I have -
thanks to Outkast - is not a mask anymore.

    "My woman left me. I just got laid off
    and they say a computer can to my job,
    better than I can damn do it. Man, pour me
    another drink."


That's some shit to live by, ya dig?

Truth be told
I'm sittin' up now,
40oz half gone,
lookin' outside at the sun.


Lookin' at el sol makes me hornier
than hell.
And now I wanna fuck.
"Ha, ha, self - good luck."
Cause outta all the dick I've been gettin'
aint none of them brothers givin'
me what I need respectively.

As I sit here,
alone,
the day before my birthday,
drinking a 40 and
starrin' out the window plenty.
Now, sittin' up, legs crossed,
pen pressed to papel,
physically feelin' like hell,
wanting desperately for he
to walk through that door
unconditionally loving me….
And, fuck man,
It's barely 7:20.
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( categories: Dali Colorado | Poetry )