Poet of the Week: Natasha Ria El-Scari
There is a rumbling
and stuff starts to ruin
fall apart like your favorite kindergarten shirt
like your marriage
like your transmission during the final payment
it all feels like it’s gone.
Your knowing, the ground you stood on?
Have you felt the quake?
That feeling of when Grandma ain’t home?
Mama ain’t home and you are all alone
and you are in the dark and you hear something
breathing on you in one long steamy, funky breath
and the light and the bat feel far from you?
Change doesn’t come bringing flowers
she is a little spicy with it.
Her skirt is too high to wear around your man.
She is bold and brave and laughs with a gap-toothed smile.
She doesn’t apologize for making you uncomfortable.
She sits right next to you and files her nails
with a razor blade and says,
What are you waiting for honey?
You stood on those shaky legs before?
Open that empty cupboard and asked
scared and frozen
Elsa ain’t got shit on you!
Change is a nightrider.
He walks in wearing boots
with his hand behind his back.
He creeps up on you while you are balancing
turds, shit, poop and piss. He says things like,
It gotta do what it do, whatcha waiting on suga’
Beat your thoughts out in Taps
killing the old you, singing funeral songs
of all you thought you were is now gone.
Cats ain’t the only ones with nine lives.
Jesus ain’t the only resurrection.
Kali is riding your ceiling fan saying,
Sister, sister it is your time….