HUMAN.

some of us
put our legs on
one at a time
in the morning
reattach our heads
twist them on even
if we’re lucky
some of us
some of us
take time to test
our ten fingers
run them across
a piano
a keyboard
across skin
some of us
sit in front
of ourselves
and practice
our human voices
we take time
to remember
what we are
and we are all of it
we are what we need
and what we want
and it is all beautiful
but it takes time
also beautiful
but one at a time
the legs
the eyes
the elbows
the loins
we dis attach
and reattach
and it means all the same
it means all the same things
if not all the more
some of us
we work all the harder
to create our faces
and be human
some of us
some of us
some of us

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2016

RED LIGHT BLUES

as bombs went off
as children were shoved from safe wombs

into disastrous circumstance
as so many cradled life into coma complacency
wedding rings, babies, weekly trip to walmart
tucked into egyptian cotton
moving through time at the pace of the minute hand
fifty-nine wasted seconds
as nursing homes sedated regrets into dust
as humans with soapbox voices and picket sign arms
rose up in the streets of everywhere
the tide of kanagawa climbing then crashing
over sacred fuji capitalism and the blue bourgeoisie
as green vines grew from the ground
in stop motion
bloom then bloom then bloom
then buds and from the buds tomatoes bloomed
picked off and thrown at the sad clowns on stage
as sailor moons drowned in big pharma seas
as bone densified as bones marrowed down to nothing
as criminals profit off the stirring pot
the prison store the jail bank
the rows of black faces engraved in the coal mine
as bees swarm the hive mind
as we sting at the cement
as hearts are broken and something worse abandoned
as nails are pounded into drywall
the shaking sounding through into the neighbors’ halls
as we shave and let grow hair and shave and then
one day the mirror is the face you never thought would come
big bags beneath burning eyes
jowls           gravity              winning
as we tick less like clocks and more like broken bombs

i sat
waiting forever
for the light
to turn
green

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2016