Damned kids ask what life was like before the invention of cars
ask how we survived
using our inferior feet to get us places and how it tasted
to drink water strictly from a water hose since
no cups existed back then
yeah
no cups
we were wild
and feral
worse than animals
modern conveniences didn't exist because parents didn't exist we only had latches and keys and fists which we would ball up and use if politically unacceptable insults didn't work but damn we still looked bitchin' after brawling in our radical neon tights our awesome hair-sprayed styles our combat boots it's giving chic it's giving breakfast club it's giving totally outrageous it's giving bright
and speaking of bright how did we find our information since information wasn't found
until the joy of the internet
how did we communicate
when phones didn't roam around with us
how did we write
when keyboards and laptops weren't invented
how
how
how was it
when the world was being created
how did the earth look
before dirt was firmly established
how was it like to live in a time when televisions hardly worked unless we shook hands with the antenna's or wrapped the metal tips in foil because that's how family memories were made wasn't it and speaking of tips and memories didn't we used to hide out until the streetlights came on to insure that we weren't the family's designated remote controller why then do we get so mad when they don't want to take out the trash
how did it feel to hold giant speakers on our shoulders like boulders in some poorly color graded caveman movie to have real friends to fight our own battles to ride a bicycle to roam the streets how was it like to play rock music with actual rocks
how was it to live
how
is it
to live
as modernized dinosaurs
* * *
© M. Lee / All rights reserved
Listen to a reading of the poem below:
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making space
Since the only thing that might pull us back up is caring, it only makes sense that here, long after I’ve let my anger born of heartbreak and grief misplace, multiply, misdirect itself, let the enormity of my solitude turn into something I don’t know how to dispute with, something thick and heavy and suffocating, let the coldness thrash and fight under my skin, deeper still, in between the arches of my organs; here where the ground is always close and the fall is easy and I surrender to it often, lie without purpose for hours, it only makes sense that it is here, I decide to show up and surrender to the possibilities of the night. Show up to those who I deserted. Drawn to the sense of accomplishment, something I haven’t felt in a while, to memory of finished dish sending its aroma into the world and with it, wrapping the room with a strong sense of sweet nostalgia, I get up and decide to cook. I pick up my phone, type a message that reads “Dinner at mine @ 8PM, don’t bring anything” and before my courage deserts me again, drop it in our friends’ group chat, the way one would do when diffusing a bomb in the movies: one eye closed, snip at the wire, hoping for the best.
By Mesh Toraskar2 days ago in Feast
Comments (2)
FABULOUS! You covered it all! Unique take on this challenge. I guess I am a great grandma Dino 🤣🤣
Which was invented first, the water hose or the cup. I ask these questions myself when the dang kids are being cheeky and lazy. Very unique poem in the mix of poems.