No Time to Lose - This poem was just published with four other poems at Anti-Heroin Chic
No Time to Lose It's cold here. Its color, a ninja turtle orange, and only 5 days left for el Presidente Electo to inaugurate his burned hair, his head of a hijo de la chingada, his midget politician tweets. People say it's worth traveling to this Swearing In, that this kind of shit makes you grow. The thing is my body cannot stand another Jetblue seat, another Greyhound cafe. Besides, winter hurts. Its whiteness rusts the snow. Its racism confuses me, makes me feel small, like a very distant echo. Fuck it, if I go back to D.C. it's because I want to visit the Smithsonian's African American Collection. Where merchant ships loaded with shipwrecked slaves cry out my name.