mother(s knows the) rest

There's a poem 

Divining 

Diving 

In it's own sacred timing 

I find 

Myself 

Between the needle of a metronome 

And the pull of my sons wish 

Whatever it is in this moment 

Immediacy 

Required 

I'm tired 

Metro gnomes like city elves 

Building ancient future civilizations 

Too tiny to see with our giant eyes and lack of attention afforded to the "small" beings 

Shut up to hear those whispers my dear my dear my dear 

Radio fuzz 

Static so clear 

The matrix code is broken 

The end of the sun is near if you know time isn't really real 

Gender is fake another tactic to divide 

I dream of our anti colonial future 

I dream of burning buildings full of billionaires 

Bye bye 

I dream of a future where I am called 

by my name 

My spirit is not royal 

My spirit is rural 

And I rise among roses 

Bred for medicine not aesthetics 

Who decided white is the way ?

Who decided thin is the way? 

I am hearty I am alive 

I will not be shoved into a drawer for talking too loud about things 

that make you

 uncomfortable. 

Your chocolate isn't chocolate and it was made on the backs of enslaved children you are eating their blood tears and sweat 

so forgive me for suggesting a drop of a mother's blood in her breastmilk 

isn't going to hurt the kid

Let's get an IV of aspartame installed at birth 

I think God is a mushroom 

I think the network 

needs 

unplugging