He’s shaved like a survivor of something
And this is the first time I’ve realized, his
Head normally baubled under a dark cap

His arms spindle, bark bent at shoulder and elbow
The leaf of his hands shiver around a 6B
I watch him become a Broadleaf before my eyes

He stretches long around the room
Determined to crowd every corner
Trundling, truncated at root

I wish to be as I see him
A beautiful tangle, loud in motion and
Silent in speech, sprinting full speed

His feet pound in dirt,
Name sprawled on the walls in capital BLACK
Demanding to be heard or at least recognized

He is the mystery of the day, every day
The jumbled stranger, in pieces strewn
& unsolved

--
c

GO FOR JEUNE!
- darts for charcoal.
Jeune boy is compassionate, secure, loving.
What more could a girl want?
Charcoal.
Charcoal boy is mad.
Boy, is he unhealthy, inconsiderate, hurtful, hateful.
Full of everything but love for me
Choose wisely.
Self-flagellation anyone?
Because I can suffocate and choke myself on charcoal, I push jeune away in a bout of responsibility.

She comes to class and goes
“There’s bees in my Head”
Then pulls out
Another mug
Of coffee
Which happens
To be the cause

Another comes
Face on the verge of tears
“He did it again!”
We all know who
“He” is
Then proceeds to
Accept hugs
While giving
An in depth narration

Another comes in
“I’m, just, dying”
She proceeds to get
More hugs
While another friend
Calls her “hot”
And she insists she’s not

The fourth comes in
She’s been sacrificing
Her free time
To attend this class
And her sad tired smile
Says it all
She gets hugs too

And here I am
In the middle
Suffocated
...
Am I emotionally immature?
Am I too much of a cynic?
Is it me, or is it them?
Am I just different?
Or too self conscious?
...
Why do they have so many problems?
...
Then class starts
And I turn to our model,
A plastic skeleton dubbed
-Bony Bonez

And lose myself
In the charcoal

Brother, shall we safely be?
For there is no place to ‘scape a falling tree.

Brother, shall we not hear the sound?
For their trunks of thunder hit the ground.

Brother, shall we lest our sorrow weigh?
For the forest is capped with snow of grey.

Brother, shall we taste the food on our plate?
For we only eat charcoal that lies in our wait.

Brother, shall we claim?
For this forest crumbles for our flame.

Brother, shall we make it past this hour?
For even the forests are hurt by their flowers.

shade shadows
of dark skin
head neck
chest hips

darken rolls
of stomach flesh
blow away
charcoal dust

curve calf
over seat
blend fold
of white sheets

steady hands
sketch toes
crescent nails
foreshorten soles

erase

you left me cold
like a long burned-out
chunk of coal
I stopped glittering
because I knew
that I was not of gold