Somes (suhm•z)

I have shed my dreams so many times I do not remember that I started small; that I, too, had a koolaid tongue.

Normal. The idea
pushes you forward,
stains your tongue

red. Normal proceeds to
get stuck in hyperspeed
and see its way

far away from me.
I launch into,
Someday.

…

I, am exactly
the tangle you
would imagine

forms in your
old Apple headphones
when

combining
2Chainz and
Etta James

and John
Coltrane and
Fleetwood Mac

on a playlist.
Chaos. Absolute,
chaos.

Not knowing
where to look,
or even listen. Just..

a lot to take in.
I move like that.
With the sentiment

of a lot, tucked in
to the tiny body
of my 5 ft

(and One proud Inch)

frame holding all it
can in and equally
pushing out.

…

I am not good
at math but I
make a mean playlist.

Bitter, sweet,
both without
shame.

I seem to have
confused the suggestions
in my music;

they haven’t solved
where to
send me.

…

The balance is hard.
But once out stretched,
it’s hard to wriggle

all the way free. Bring it
back to center. You get used
to the pushing

and pulling,
all by
yourself.

Somedays
you don’t even
mind

it. But someday
is not everyday, is
not yesterday,

or today. Someday
doesn’t always happen
like we say it will.

Sometimes,
someday,
is just to make

that day
feel more fitting: like
a body bag.

…

My thoughts haven’t solved
where to
send me.

I am not good
at cooking but I
sure can

make a meal,
out of
a conviction.

…

“Something else
will come; Someone
Else, will come.” Someday

they will know,
where to send
me, and I will

have already
blasted off
into the Next,

Someday.