If I build you a wall, will you climb it?

If I make you some porridge, will you eat it?
If I build you a wall, will you climb it?

There is a rumbling in my soul.
It's beginning to sound
like the hunger pains of revolution.

I feel like scatting along to Dizzy Gillespie,
the ecstatic nonsense, cheeks blown,
head bowed to the experimental masters.

I cross out cliches like a priest crosses his heart:
frequently and with a pain for the oppressed.

Little by little, you build the bridge
between what is expected and what is frenetic energy,
your childhood dreams and lusts and doubts.

Shakespeare put it best when he described greatness:
"Some people are born and some people die."
Shakespeare didn't really say that.

Before you begin your journey to sleep,
remember one thing, if you can:
I love you and always will.


This work by Scott Stewart is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.