BR’ER RABBIT

Try not being yourself for

now, giving up on harmony.

I am here.

This is really where I am.

The family-

how we hurt, how we heal.

In the way, all talk trash.

I never see myself as ordinary

I am ordinary.

Right side up and falling in,

a web

a drum

my power opens the world.

My faith,

my family,

my heart,

I am needed,

but not wanted.

I should die.

I hear you-

he cares more for a dog-

and I am responsible for my power.

Listening for a good word,

men follow work

women find their hands full.

From the bottom of black, what color is harmony?

From who we are, what does it mean to be white?

What black is following you?

Being myself,

how do I use my eyes

my hair

my color

my arms, legs,

privates,

everything.

My mind a mirror

inside this place.

Why am I here?

Is it nobody’s listening?

Am I an object of affection?

O, how anything I say is white.

Walking out

block after block-

how sharp I am

not.

I am you

with my covered feet.

Changes of the seasons,

of the body, what is ours?

What can we keep?

Every Sunday,

the Bible in the crook of my arm

cornering the Good News

the beating heart of the choir

my skin scrubbed soft.

Hair holding off Saturday night,

striding out into the chords

Up and down the sanctuary-

my spine standing anew

one out of two.

This is normal.

This squares us our struggle

our drylongso

thirsty dirt

under God’s nails

keeping here

a table

keeping me.

The world is never ours.

But finding a way

we shouldn’t need to worry so much about

that line.

We could be happy if we worry’d a little about that line.

Is it floor or flo’?

Doh or door?

Can or kin?

Self-determination, is it?

Is it we are or we be?

How joyful is my pride?

Faith, flag, family,

making this place cry—

a—me.

I am a man emptying of this world,

Sunlight is full of my tears.

TABLE MONOLOGUE- B.R. By Jeremiah Burns Copyright C 2018 All Rights Reserved.