on painted denim

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on seeing the rousing fits around me today

and contrasting it with the lecture guides of my history glass—

i see that we are repeating ourselves without the ability to conquer immediate understanding.

i stuck to something i knew

i spent the morning handing out coffee

to cold passerbys and scarf-bundled venders.

we passed out strength in the form of warmth

along with loving memories of the one who taught us to be kind

—and after fetching her four sugars and one cream,

a drawstring necklace caught my eye

hanging from her awning

as she sold the love she sewed and crafted with

—i bought a pendant of peace

to wear around my neck, a reminder to love, a reminder of patience, a reminder to rid volatile righteous rage

and i got home and took out my oldest pair of jeans

in the spirit of retrograding

i urged life out of acrylics

and drew and splattered and wrote

“WHIM” in the spirit of Emerson and “create” in the spirit of Kerouac

are kneecap reminders

and when i reach into my pocket, i reach into sunshine

happiness and peace and music and nature and love

are constantly staring back at me—

and i engraved in myself the philosophy

of “love in the face of hate.”

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elim xx

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