rummage

*elizabeth catlett. 1960. ‘the black woman speaks’*
piecing through the pieces
pieces
piecing to find
pieces
or peace
she got a place on the 13th floor
elevator’s out!
she got a place on the 13th floor
mama gone her own way long ago
daddy behind bars again
3 strikes! 
ain’t visitin’
sister’s will be sisters
together and apart simultaneously
intricate existences
piecing through 
no. piecing these…
pieces
where they don’t belong
she got a place on the 13th floor
elevator’s out!
footprints on the ceiling
hallways with half a light
stink left in corners
dude gone run up
run in
to piss in stairwell number four
see her
her own load that needs unloading
let his penis swing
carry this too!
pieces
severed pieces
elevator’s out!
graffiti
concentration
tenement
industrial 
living up instead of out
breath trapped in flailing lungs
biting tongue
body subjected to madness
world dares to remain sane
emaciated tomorrow’s
disjointed today’s
dissonance of a people
pieces of…
disappearing transcendence
pieces
scattered
concrete and metal
this is no way to live!
elevator’s out!
malnourished ego
lack of audacity
self denial of privilege
for getting she the source
re member she the source
in danger gender
re in force divinity
peace to the source
re ad just eyes to sun
shifting at night
full moon’s re entry
two windows
no moon or sun two see
luminous rendezvous rescheduled
soul ain’t been touched
since grandma’s hand
fingers oilin’ her scalp
arms wrapped round her back
she got that place on the 13th floor
it matters not!
she’s got a place on the 13th floor
pieces….elsewhere
peace…elsewhere
scattered
severed
elevator’s out…again
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