Legacies

you’re stepping in the quicksand of the
everydayness of this,
searching for something special
-or at least not as trivial-
to break through the
disturbingly comforting normalcy
that squelches in your boots and is
poised and poisoned to drag you in
“Break the habit,”
you think,
but it refuses to fall into
the cardboard box you have labeled
Past; you shove
determined to move on with the
remodeling of your jungles
so at last
you have a subdivision and slide
the container of quicksand into the
vacant lot
and forget about it until some kids
come home covered in your mud.

(I wasn’t really sure what this piece would end up as to begin with, but looking back at it I realize that Sarah Kay’s poem “Hand Me Downs” partially inspired this poem.)

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