YOU CHOOSE (Poem)

YOU CHOOSE

By Farah Lawal Harris, 2024

With all disrespect,

I rudely request, require and desire a refrain from chronic pain

because this belligerent, bony, buss-down bundles to her buttcheeks b*tch

is insane, bringing broken bridges and invisible incisions,

insisting, persisting, resisting

and fisting?

Knots nag annoyingly near my knobby knees to my nectarine sleeves,

sailing slowly and sullenly from sore legs to tightened chest.

Most days lately, pain makes me a mucky mess, I confess.

My mind mystifies me,

meanwhile intuition never reviles, defiles nor lies to me.

In staccato, She sings sweetly:

“Sit silently and listen to me, sweetie.

Nearly every nothing-ass nagging knot in your body

holds old soul stories you swore you forgot.

Sillily, you unwittingly fused fictitious facts—

that’s what causes pauses in peace and creaks in your back.

Frankly, it’s fake news, Farah.

You choose if life is a ruse,

a petulant, puny, pistol-whipping pimp

who punishes and abuses you,

or you brew a new stew,

or better yet, sit and sing sad spirituals in a pew.

“Or you could do what you ‘sposed to do:

coyly call on the clever, cunning alchemist you are!

Yawn until nature lifts the resistance of the heavy pinkish

tongue behind your gums,

and drop the dumb persistence to prove anything to anybody, baby.

Assume absolute and astute authority always!

Control the golden pen—

in cursive, rewrite the ridiculous, revise the end.

Spin the sordid story til surprisingly, you  succeed with sexy ease

again and again.”