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Ollie Schminkey, performing at the Strike Theater in Minneapolis, MN.
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Button Poetry is committed to developing a coherent and effective system of production, distribution, promotion and fundraising for spoken word and performance poetry.
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The bruise i let yellow into white I say dead and the crowd hushes I say my dead and the room shrinks the Eye of a needle It says i'm sorry I laugh I laugh ash between my fingers just for Me alone my dead for me alone stupid Grief Making dads out of cd skips Gazes held too long stupid grief time's Up you're the hunted you are precious You are spooned out what a thin meat you Make what a soft sob what an unholy Delineation of time every day is not an Anniversary don't smell the snow and Already begin to forget his palms stupid To miss the way his skin hangs off his Bicep There is no one to remind you to Winterize your car It's over You are not fun at parties You think too much about sex for this to Still be grief you're fine grieving People don't think about Grieving people think about their dead You're dead My dead I want to pour ashes into my mouth when I'm alone I've never loved my friends more i pick My nose in the car and maybe the other Drivers can see
My cousin henry sends me a photo of my Father and i time travel I glitch on his smile How i held his body and so i know but i Don't know There are so many things to sort through I want all the fur and feathers i want All the things i want I don't cry anymore It is what it is [Applause]
