Roll of Thunder Roll of Dice

want to shit on-
want to sit on my own toilet seat

seat at home, occupied by only me

my toilet seat, my library seat
there where I sit to read
books I check out

hours sometimes upon
what is by some, for some reason,
called a throne

am I sad here-
have I become sad here
after a fling of happiness- a toss

after one, I won
after another, I loss

is my life to be based upon
the toss of dice

like the economy of The Bahamas
must I add my love life,
my love nights, my lovely days

I must accept me
no matter who does not

myself to live with
not for a month,
not for a few weeks

I have myself to live with
every second on my life
as long as life shall last

this the gift
that heaven has bestowed

must love me before anyone can
long after whoever cannot
stops

I must buy lotion for my hands
how rough they look
how awful they feel

do I miss the elegance
the opulence
of Sol Kerzner’s Atlantis
on Paradis Island
in The Bahamas

there I'd use the toilet
and sit at times
for several hours

sit until
a book I'm reading is read

rest rooms as large
as a comfortable apartment

larger than what is
for some persons
an entire house

am I dreaming of home
longing for home
for Kemp Road

where I live in the house
in which I was conceived
in which I was born

uncomfortable street
that is at times though
like heaven on earth

when it rains
I am as if in a great big cage
enclosed in the bars
falling rain makes

about the house falling
off the four sides
of my house roof
off my house top

any window
out through which I look

I see the rain
wetting the leaves of trees

across the street
beneath the canopy
of the convenience store

school children
in their uniforms

young people
and not-so-young people
gather, wait until the rain,
falling, holds up

when it’s bright
in the sunlight,
the rain is a lot
of silver strands


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
10:42 a.m. 10.01.12