Junk Potpourri or Heads & Brains & Other Things

Tchuba is watching me...

Empty gordes walk along fordham road
leaving their minds at home fermenting in mason jars filled w/preservatives
they have messages ironed on sweatshirts
are they too afraid to tell you their names or just begging for attention
hand them back their minds after filling it w/fruit from poem trees
and they will put it in bambu paper and sell it on 188th street to passing strangers
who become addicted to the sweetness
and come back for more
they will never believe it was the fruit and not the plant that got them high
really high
snatch the smoke from the air and bottle it as incriminating evidence
void thoughts walk on 42nd street
whispers of loose joints ambush passing ears
the new york post collects sweats from junkies armpits
while they scratch an never ending itch
someone echoed on tv and radio
ladies and gentlemen
a mind is a terrible thing to waste



Peace to my God
lepadah

Tchuba word is bond

Reviews

[☮]

I can relate to this. As a longtime partaker of "fruit," I felt the vibe and the message. Being in NYC for 26 years, I felt the grittiness of my hometown in this piece.

You referred to what I think of as gourds... which I believe are old plants... fruits. I've heard of it before. Now I have to look it up again.

Honestly, this can be interpreted so many ways. It's metaphorical, blunt and enigmatic all at the same time. I'd like to know the inspiration for this piece.

As usual, you always make me think. Nice.