Make Your Mark
Updated: Jun 24, 2021
How to be an Orange
In the beginning, we are flesh, bone, and earth.
We are tears, sweat, and water.
We are oxygen, dioxide, and air.
In the beginning we are and no one taught us how.
We are before we’ve been conceived, born, or named.
We are before the ways of the world tell us the ways that we, decidedly, are not.
This unlearning is what unties our sure knots of knowing; undoes the intricacies of being; and hides our shoes somewhere under the bed.
We are whole before our one new-in-the-box selves are damaged, outgrown, or lost.
We are “how it is.”
And an orange is an orange is an orange is an orange.
No matter how you slice it.
It was before we ever discovered, tasted, or grew it; and it certainly was before we deigned to slap a label on it.
An orange is an orange is an orange is an orange, undoubtedly, but maybe simply because the world has yet to convince it otherwise.
The amount I shed in the shower astounds me.
With the hair I lose, I could crown those needing a boost of confidence, making Samsons out of ones who’ve lost their strength. Just a trim off my top could help to clothe the naked and warm the globe with the fibers made of my being.
Excess from my tresses sewn into mats could keep pests out of crops and soak up oil from Earth’s waterways, caring for our planet and helping to feed her people. My twisted strands could come together to make sturdy rope. Single pieces might break with effort, but that cord would not so easily be broken down.
The tentacles now suctioned to the tile could be wound into all that I create, so I would truly be one with the art that keeps me alive. What’s more, I would spin my mane into chairs and nests for passersby to stop and rest, lavished with the gifts entrusted to my DNA.
What a privilege to be such an avid philanthropist.
Big-Ass Black Bird
Oh, to have the confidence of the bird that has commandeered our driveway, strutting like it pays the mortgage and owns the concrete.
To be proud enough to stick my flag and claim a patch of land I have no business claiming, grifting shiny things buried in the torn up street.
To be fearless enough to throw a renegade barbecue in front of a house on a block where I don’t live, pumping up the bass and dancing with my friends to the beat.
Oh, to be so bold.
A sliver of potato
has an idea
forming in the soil.
Its hand goes up.
Hang a mirror in ev’ry room
All throughout your home
Reflect the sun that’s shining there
A bright and ringing tone
Place one in the entryway
So you can greet your eyes
When they are open widest
Having just spent time outside
Put a mirror in the kitchen
That welcomes and invites
Good company to sit with you
As you enjoy a bite
Affix one in the bathroom
Overtop your sink
I’m told that it’s the best place
To hear the thoughts you think
Adorn the wall above the desk
Where your mind can wander
And dive into creative depths
That fill you up with wonder
Set a mirror on display
Atop the fireplace
You’ll hardly miss a cuckoo clock
When you can see your face
Decorate the bedroom
With a pane upon your bureau
So your smile is first to meet you
When you wake up on the morrow
Hang a mirror ev’ry place
That you can think to do
So it is wholly effortless
To be infinitely you
Thank you for joining me. I am so glad you’re here!