Popcorn

five years spent practicing, learning, building community around myself, so beautiful

here on the mats, ponytail swinging, laughter,

saturdays from nine to ten-thirty, then eight to ten-thirty,

My mother wasn’t born this strong.

No, her strength comes from years of labor.

Labor of the body, 

Labor of the mind.

My mother’s shoulders are strong;

Home. We’re home. I didn’t need to open my eyes. I knew we were home. I knew we were getting close. I had memorized the roads leading from the highway back to the house nestled in the little neighborhood I called home.

Thump thump 

You see nothing 

through your stale pride 

Your black and white lenses 

Your punishments and rewards 

Your fake smiles and deceit 

Thu thump 

It lives in cupped hands

Around sorry ears,

Behind closed mouths shut up tight,

A wrench in the steel factory gears.

A hidden prism refracting light,

Shining through the cracks in firmly pressed fingers.