Conditionals
Posted by Cortney Charleston | Filed under Poetry, Print
If George Clinton had become President
And Chocolate City never melted
If the bird flipped was a peace symbol
Like its name implied
If nerd was sexy and paid as such
If homies on the corners listened to Common Sense
Before he went commercial
If money grew on trees
And didn’t leave cotton splinters
If the elector’s voted like they went to college
If college didn’t treat me
As just another commodity
If the dreams weren’t always more vivid than reality
If drinks tasted the same
In cans and bottles
If marijuana was conjoined
With every new treaty
If food was served family style every night
If rain came at uniform speed
And always with deliberate warning
If the clocks had fatter faces
Then, life would be air conditioned
(simplifying two)
Posted by Cortney Charleston | Filed under Poetry
I always wanted to write you
A poem on glass.
Something beautiful.
Transparent.
The type of rare that’s inexpensive.
Break it. Give it to you.
Have you put the letters
Back together for me.
It’ll be a brilliant metaphor.
You won’t know it.
And I will
Thank you for returning
My feelings.
(one)
Chew
Posted by Cortney Charleston | Filed under Poetry, Print
Pick me slowly from the bone, cleanly
Tender and warm, you swear I’m clinging to your taste buds
They trace companionship and cinnamon
Teeth tickled, tongue twirling
Flavor fills mouth with echo – music, slow-footed syrup
Chasing bitter rumors where seamen drown
Don’t rumble a single word
You wouldn’t want others to see me, clown
Running smear from your lipstick
Chew me into complacency, table scrap
Wearing necktie, dollar menu mannered-man
Washed down, wine glass full of tears
Fresh out of sugar water
