Poems by monté

Poems by monté

EACH MORNING

Upon waking, I slowly stretch To thank my God. I’m still thanking God during my preparations for the day: I make sure I have something for my menagerie. My menagerie consists of the cat from the basement the birds from the trees and the squirrels that bring me to my knees. Once again, I thank my God.

UNTITLED

I’ve decided They didn’t know a thing Back in 1987 When I went for the results Of a test that would change… Change my occupation Change my associations Change my language Change my perspective— I spent years Taking what my virus Dealt out:

the pneumonias the thrushes the weight loss and skin eruptions After gaining control of this— 25 years in the making— I still say, They didn’t know a thing. 2013—I got this. I’m changing my occupation my associations my language my perspective Allow me to reintroduce myself: I’m M—the Great and Powerful. BREATHE DEEP

If I close my eyes I know you like a flock of butterflies caught under my shirt like when the coaster approaches the crest of the climb

more like the drop that follows like first-time stage fright like trying to suppress the blush trying not to smile when you first come into view I hate the way my heart skips a beat a beat a beat.

BURIED DEEP

It sometimes rises to the surface when I’ve loosened the reins Sometimes I bury it so deep stuffed way down so no one sees or takes notice Tough and tumultuous experiences have taught me well But I long for a time when I can be truly free Feeling, loving, loving that feeling Pleasure so sweet you think it hurts It takes your breath away

UNTITLED

From the very beginning I can remember being told “You’re ugly, you ain’t going to be nothing, and you don’t love me…” Somewhere along the way I took on the search or the quest to prove them wrong. Early on, I learned how to garner the attention and response

I desired.

I learned I could move like not many others could— Honed it, showcased it, Whenever and wherever I could.

But then, come to think of it, I’m still searching.

MY BEST IS YET TO COME

I can remember getting up Saturday mornings getting the change out of my piggy-bank then down to the five-and-dime (that’s what we called Woolworth’s back then), a treasure-trove where you could find anything— to the candy counter where it lights up my eyes ten cents’ worth of button candy, Squirrel Nut, Chick-O-Sticks… 25¢ worth of potato chips 25¢ worth of pretzels (to be mixed later)… Head to the movie theatre on the next corner— 99¢ got you a newsreel, two cartoons, and the feature film. Before entering, I’d stop at the concession stand mixing my chips and pretzels and applying some mustard. Picking a seat in the middle, I’d settle in for the time of my life.