for wes

[citrus_eyeliner]

from alice cone's poetry 1 class. inspired by a great man and an untitled poem in his amazing zine, depressed skull.

for wes eisold

wes, i will write
a song for you,
the one armed boy
laughed at for
not being able
to tie his shoes.
kids are cruel.
if only they
could see you now,
the way we do,
cradling this
hand-bound book
of poetry into
the crevice of your
left elbow, holding
it up the best you
can with what should
have been your left
hand, scribbling on
the inside cover with
a pink hello kitty
pen as your sweat
falls onto the page:

“oh chris + bri
i am trying to
outwrite the
sweat stains.”

if only they had
been there to see
you beating that
tom drum, that crash
cymbal, holding
the microphone in
your right hand,
calling out each
person in that
room, one by one,
as they slammed
their bodies together
and crawled on top of
each other to be
closer to you:
ape! ape! ape!