free form

I sit here
painting my toenails
Examining my pores
thinking in similes and metaphors
My thoughts begin to sprawl
…and I remember all
the songs I loved growing up
marvin gaye and tammi terrell
taught me that even in death/ our words prevail
and oooh i
I used to love him
And I just want some
Of that sexual healing
that feeling
that I got from her
Yeah I really loved her
Lauryn hill
I can still hear
Those lyrics thump in my ear
Drums/ bass/ beat
My legs move/ my chest
Heaves/
So caught I up/ I forget to breathe

Yes I used to love them
But now…

I don’t think about lyrics/ I dream of being rich
At risk of falling for that bait and switch
Start off running, chasing the dream
But end up chasing cars and cream
Dollar dollar bills y’all
Cause cash rules everything
Around
But what about me?

Yes, I’m at risk
I said I wouldn’t fall
Victim to that trap
But the simple fact is
I think about my money
I’m obsessed with finances
Money over friends and bitches
Family trumps riches
But I have to ask
Is it even about art anymore?
Have I sold out/ squelched my voice/before I made my offering to the world my contribution to the universe/ is it even about being the first/ black woman/ to win best director/ and even if it is/ should it be?/ be about the accolades the self congratulatory trophies/ the look at mes/ the people’s adoration/ the flashing lights of kanye’s graduation/somehow beam/ endlessly down/ down/ until I scream/ that they have to get off of me… cause like em says – that’s not what I got into it for – that’s not what it’s about for me
Except I suspect
That maybe
It could be
And that’s what’s eating away
My creativity

2.11.09