The Middle is a togetherness poem, a reflection on division and collaboration and a celebration of relationships, communication and the interdependence of all beings on earth.
The Middle – a Togetherness Poem
When flicking through property pages, I look for shacks or marble-floor mansions With 18-carat gold taps gushing 1990 Château Lafite-Rothschild into Waterford crystal goblets. Median-priced houses Make me laugh Or cry Depending on the neighbour I’m juxtaposing. Take John Henry’s chiselled cheekbones and Pitch them against Milly Millar’s legs, grab Jesus’ hand with one hand and an elephant’s trunk With the other. Only sometimes, do we sleep At the centre of the island, mostly at night When birds lay their heads on feathery chests. The icecaps are melting as Black is getting blacker and White is whiter Every day, And I cannot make it Into the centre of the world not to mention The bar in town where everyone wears The emperor’s latest. Somehow, The bartender remembers their orders, mixing Brandy and ginger for her one minute and Dropping an olive into a Martini for you the next. I’ve seen the cocktail stirrer boring a hole in a glass, Right where the stem hoists the crystal bowl like a tulip. The glass sings when you circumnavigate the liquor Running your fingertip along the rim. Another circle, Another rotation, a swirling around a centre, warm bodies In the eye of round-the-table talks. Faded veneer drinking beer And I carve a bird into the wood, a seagull for Webbing the sea to the sky with its claws and beak. Hunger has it dive for sardines. The button of my coat slides Into the buckle of some woman's handbag strap, my drink spills Two smiles mid-floor and a flurry of hands with mops and buckets and Lemon-scented floor cleaner. At dawn, we stir sugar Into freshly brewed coffee0