Like Everyone Else

Standard

4.8 Like Everyone Else

“Today is a different look for you.”
I anticipate the compliment.
It’s the most flamboyant blue I own.
The bravest thing I can wear
In this world of black slacks and neutral forms
Is a skirt the color of lapis
Printed with symmetrical golden crescents.
When I bought the bolt I was warned it would be risky.
It’s a difficult print to work with.
The little tailor mimicked the a-line photo,
Then added big pockets on the sides.
It’s out of my comfort zone.
“Normally I can pick you out, but today
you look like everyone else.”
I mentally stutter before responding.
I look like everyone else…
I’m dressed like a color block in a children’s picture book!
Then I remember where I am.
It takes Africa to make cerulean mundane.
My American muted purples are luxurious here,
Signifying me.
Here, women wear rainbows.
To stand out is to blend in.
“But it’s nice that you’re trying something new.”
…Thanks.

4.9 Keeps Dancing

I hope that little boy keeps dancing.
I hope the music does not leave his arms,
Even after they’ve grown long and wiry with hard work.
I hope that no one scolds him for dancing,
Tells him that men don’t spin.
I hope that little boy looks up again and again
And starts to beat his feet against the ground,
Throw his head down and his chest up in jubilation
Just for a moment now and then
Just enough to find pleasure.
I hope that little boy grows to be a man
Who dances in the streets every now and then.

Small Realizations: A Sonnet

Standard

Dappled sunlight white and yellow fell
Upon my couch with pillows orange and blue,
And I resplendent in this cozy spell
Thought lightly about life and what I do.
I am one who crossed the great wide sea,
Who lives a life away from what is known.
I shrugged off comfort and complacency
And left for foreign shores and foreign towns.
In truth I did not give these musings strength
(A Sunday morning is best spent in rest)
I sent them off with tea until at length
One tiny thought sat heavy in my chest:
How have I crossed the world and lived by chance
Yet never once have I been asked to dance?

No joke! I was just sitting there, on my couch, thinking about nothing in particular, when it occurred to me that I have never been asked to dance.

Wait…

I think I was asked to dance when I was in seventh grade? SEVENTH. GRADE. Oh my God, what happened? I make light of it in this sonnet, but that is ridiculous!

Omnipresent Inseam

Standard

Omnipresent Inseam

 

You hear the music in your soul

And just like that away you go

A favorite beat, a lyric sweet

Motivation for your feet.

You’re by yourself so no one sees

How much you creak when you bend your knees

Through jumps, leaps, stomps, reaches, twirls

First you spin and then you whirl.

Just remember that as you dance

There is one thing which sees all…

Your pants.

 

And pants, they never cease to judge

They sense each millimeter of pudge

Your omnipresent inseam knows

Just how far your dance can go

And you push it just one bit

It will summon all your dignity…

And split!