My students make it rain with Uno cards,
a creative solution for the lack
of ones in a community “Spanish,” “black,”
where broken windows become broken shards.

What exactly does that mean? I don’t know
except that rupture begets more rupture
and that space for life is space for culture
“You ain’t gotta leave, but it’s time to go.”

That’s right: I’m kicking all dust to the curb
so my ashen lungs can take in the sight
of post-industrial sunrise over white flight,
where bus exhaust, Black & Milds cloak the herb.

The heavens made it rain on Sunday night.
We rupture the ruptures to set things right.

This entry was posted in Urban Sonnets and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s