To Skate On Sun

People have told me/

that my brain is a bronzed/

drinking gourd/

with so much whistle/

so much promise/

Today I caught my own/

filament/

in a subway window and 

thought/ ‘this is the

face of someone who

will win’/ and kept 

staring.

I travel home/ after this

the night/ coasting on

my back/ my mother says

“you really believe/ that

this is how you will change

the world?”/ the snarl

in her voice/ shoving my

boisterous/ness to the walls/

I shrugged the half/ atlas of/

my body towards the/ door

steady silencing/ the corrosion

and I just/ stood there and/

made myself really/ feel

it/ made my entire/ frame

conduct the/ costly exit of

a missile/

(If you were to rearrange

these stanzas in any 

conceivable combination

the story would never change.)