Young Identity’s poetic responses to Available Light:
her day’s restlessness
knots her back like the
She says ‘her body looks like
mine, I’ve never seen a body like
mine dance like that,
except when my mirror catches
me in the act’
in the smoke
i found movement
prosodic poses waxing prose
in a moment
at the sober darkness
Closing on bodies like tempo
Allegro wrists cutting
Light to strings,
Epics in my leg
Flex about all the battles
A primal language
That mortal tongues contort
Into winning and losing
To speak is
How to sing.
In the mist
I found my shadow
Was bigger than yours
As stasis transforms
Life imitates art. Art imitates life.
And the dance i do
No mother can bring herself to teach
So my notions of motion
Resemble a painting
As my limbs are framed
By chalk outlines
– Frankie Blaus
Day no longer knows night,
orbiting the synchronicity of one,
and the light cannot comprehend itself.
So when the night comes it acquiescences
to the luminous sun, audaciously setting
red, orange and golden,
orbiting the synchronicity of one.
We are complicit in our own demise.
He came in looking and
a brotherman, she: a tribal
holding all of our tomorrows in
once grew life, but have become
in our mimicking of each other.
We our complicit in our own
We learn to dance in one accord,
losing self to the syncopation of
a designer lifestyle,
we are the hive, dancing to the commands of others.
All is mundane. Seeds that once knew good soil
have become infertile in barren lands.
And we learn to dance to someone else’s rhythm,
We our complicit in our own demise.