The Thing I Cannot Explain
Jazmin Morgan
my eyes are stapled shut
by all the metals
refined by diapered
africans cowering
in corners from
fat white things
i cannot explain
my eyeball rolling
in a pattern of four
searching for
all the unruly
answers my heart
cannot tame
all the years of your
life waiting to be
overlooked
just so an evil
man can
metamorph
into another
unjust thing
i cannot explain
the honorable
mistrialing a rape case
armies of attachment
drawn apart
by a poor
jury of strangers
for what we all
dream of
during death will
forever
be withheld by
greed-riddled
blood-thirsty things
i cannot explain
illegal rain water collection
with the parchest of
men being jailed
for searching
for nourishment
the death of my
summer muse
over southern fields of
blooming flowers
basking in the
endless warmth of
august winds
and under each
of my fingertips is
the thing
i cannot explain
my individual
love for life
lying in lushness
dying slowly
a feeling i wish
to frame.
