A.D.I.D.A.S.

FEET

 

a collection of mitochondrial histories

i have named all of the clone energies  inside me

grandfathered in

i call them joshua-the-same

 

in their collisions, sparks occur

i am created between the seconds

to throb away the hours

in memory of men who came before me

 

joshua

my gifted skin, a tapestry of ancestry

 

he is surrounded in the kitchen

an audience of hungry eyes

apron around waist

baking, a southern inferno

wrist broken at the hand

and hair laid straight by his wife

 

he cooks for the men

who secretly call him Gale

 

i have only known him as joshua

 

my body is an echo of his enduring privacies

we are joined at the nucleus and burn

all that we cook is desire

all that we cook is black and overdone

 

the old man with the wife and kids

prefers to call them nothing

but forgotten, we are remembered

in the rising sun

 

he is the skin of time

a shroud of memory in the low-down

just like one day, me

between the legs of a boy

 

i remember him

while the man on the radio chants

“all day i dream about sex”

 

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