Scout & Birdie
Scout & Birdie
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I look out at the lake’s currents
Currently pulsing waves
Overcome the concrete
Caging it in,

I pause,
You come to mind
And I
Want to call you
And tell you about the Documentary: Burzynski
About Dr. Burzynski curing cancer
Like the deadliest kinds of cancer,
Like brain cancer
And the FDA and The National Cancer Institute
Have been trying to legally stop him
Because his discovery will take away billions of their money
Which is why I want to say to you

“Please don’t listen to every word your doctor say,
They have motive to the money—
yo money.”

It’s okay to fall off any pill or ill will radiation they filling you with,

My sense,
Worth two

I want you to try something new.

But, I think it’d be rude,
To suggest
Something I can't monetarily
Provide for you

So instead of calling you,
I sing to lake Michigan like it were you,

I just want you to try something new,
I want you to try something new.

I close my eyes,
And say a prayer to you breasts—
No cancer.
A prayer to your lungs—
Deep breaths forgetting fluids.
A prayer to thinning breaking blood clot.
A prayer that’s just a vision of you dancing,
Like you on soul train,
Care free,
A lot of arms,
Hips,
Dips,
And spinning,
With Uncle Jeff—
Cured.
But history tells me
That they didn’t—
Don’t—
Really care about our dances.

The government and the moneymen
(half the time it’s the same white men)
Making money off the Radiation,
That never made you radiant,
It’s barbaric,
To your futuristic gardening.

They don’t know about you planting seeds,
Into your siblings,
Putting faith in their dreams,
Like coming over,
On your vacation,
Pulling my momma’s weeds,
Planting your lilacs
Moving trashcans to the side of the house,
And sweeping the driveway,
In one afternoon,
Blessed the overflowing,
Piles on piles
Of hoarded past
that be my house

But I guess you will try something new,
I guess you will try something new.

We weren’t ready as you rest in peace,
We rest in pieces,
We shattered glass waiting for heat,
Like warm welcoming kisses on cheek,
Or warmth of hand in hand
Or hand on back
To tight hug and tight lipped smile
You are our peace.

Some know it’s going to be alright,
We’ll find peace again,
Or you again,
Or both,
It’s just soul can’t stand on it’s own right now,

Mind lost in memories memorialized by Heart
Who holds on to homes
Holds on to midnight snacks in your kitchen,
Holds on to sweet treats at Culver's,
Holds on to trips to Atlanta
And the trip to DC
And you wanting to see everything.

I’m walking through your garden,
40 acres y’all bought,
in your back yard, now called Nottage Park,
Reads a sign, next to a gravel path,
Lined with plants,
Leading to tables and benches, a swing, a fire pit, and this slope—
This slope that has ceramic plates
With quotes on them,
One broken plate really stuck out with me,
It said:
Don’t let you memories be greater than your dreams.
As I put the plate back together again,
Don’t let your memories be greater than you dreams.

I want to try something new,
I want to try something new.

The ocean of the universe,
The Lake Michigan of the universe,
Ain't always gonna flow in the direction that we floating in,
I’m trying to learn to breathe under water.
Breathe under the pressure and oppression of depression
(of Death)
Breathe
The peace
You resting in.

 

About the author...

Terrence Carey is a graduate of Columbia College Chicago where he received a a degree in Theater: Acting. He has been performing all over Chicago for the past 5 years. He can be seen performing in his very diverse improv groups, ’99 Problemz, Chicago’s improvised 90’s sitcom, as well as his improvised spoken word group, PREACH. Terrence is repping the south side of Madison, Wisconsin. Find him on Tumblr: terrencecarey.tumblr.com.