Flying with Feeling

By

Jackie Lopez

Picasso

Down the roller coaster of shame


and up the electricity of happiness


I coast through a myriad of feelings.


How do you document a wrong breath?


I hijack an airplane.


I lift up a rose.


Sweet gratitude drives a stake through my heart.


Fear kidnaps my sovereignty.


I am an adulterated version of myself.


And I know exactly where to turn.


I turn to the darkness and to communion with your soul.


Your name is like medicine.


And, I am never angry for I am most fortunate.


The cabals of enlightenment have me wearing a tutu.


I prefer a dress.


I coast to the Empire State Building.


The bells are ringing.


The Earth is shaking.


The time is now.


It is the home of the sweatshops.


It is the home of the bourgeoisie.


It is the home of racism, classism, and sexism.


It is the home of injustice.


It is the home of the civil rights movement.


It is the home of the most unimaginable beauty.


And the home of the cut throat slave master.


I stick my finger in the soil before I go out


for I am flying with feelings.