don’t understand me
no numeral of quantity
preacher lady looking
at accusations in a book
saying infinity is proof
of a mathematical sacrifice
that saved humanity
if only we could get back
to three and then zero
says quantum physics
is why we have clocks
and space shuttles
slipping through cracks
in the fabrics of blankets
claims blankets are white
masses, says I’m mass
the tree is mass, birds
are mass and a mass
is a spot that breaks
into a speck so small
my car is invisible to god
claims i don’t pray right
because i do it with my
hands and my speech
is imperfect, can’t talk
to god with a slur or slang
says i need to be prized
and perfect like a precious
moment figurine, demands
i stop calling him home boy
he’s not your boy, throws
a piece paper at me with
nothing on it but a squiggle
in the middle of a circle,
claims it represent life
and who i used to be
when i had a brain
and understood counting
was invented for more
than money, need to crunch
the numbers to understand
my sister is the same as me
though she died in a hospital,
tells me i’m better than nobody
but I act like a stranger hiding
my divinity code under a hat

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is what genuis looks like in a poem!

Cats in Hats


Cats, cats, cats,

they like to wear hats, hats, hats,

and they like to prance, prance, prance,

which makes me dance, dance, dance! 



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My grandfather was a farmer, a hardworking man, the happy one kind. I'll always remember summer mornings when I visited his place, we woke up very early to collect some milk and to feed the cows. My grandfather had the farm 45 minutes away from my grandmother's house, so at the time we returned from milking (with a big jar of milk), my grandma already cooked a delicious breakfast, served on the table. I always ran straight to the table and ate some cheese, without caring about my dirty and sweaty hands. The wait of seeing my grandpa enclosing the horse, give him water and take away the saddle was eternity for me, and of course to my hunger.


My grandfather's favourite hat was a beige one a little battered by time but it was the one that every child in the house wanted to use at riding mornings, the first one to wake up had the right to use. The hat had a feather of some strange bird, and leather string around it. My grandfather always told us that this hat was a very special one, 'cause he conserved it since his younger years and it was a gift from an uncle. He liked to put it on when he and my grandma took walks to the beach; when he drove my mom and her siblings to school; when he visited my great-grandparentsand. But now it was the hat that stayed with him every morning crossing the field. The hat was so old that the lyrics of the brand inside were almost impossible to read; it was a little too big for my head but I loved wearing it.


Morning walks to the barnyard, long ones for a boy of my age, but enjoyables by the hat covering the sun and my grandpa's talks, this last one made the walks so much easier and of course, made them feel quicker. When we arrived home he took the hat off and hung it next to all the other hats; some of them large, others colorful, some velvet ones... but that beige, old, the most damaged and full of memories made it the favourite hat. Nowdays visiting my grandma's place and seeing the hat, I close my eyes and start to remember every story and all the amazing talks with my grandfhater as we walked. All those moments between my grandfather, me, and the hat.

grandfather, me, and the hat.
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Mr Monopoly

Hat, Shoe, Dog and Car eagerly await
All hoping to gain estate
Bankers investing in them all
But some will rise and some will fall

Six to start, and off they go
Estates beginning to grow
Pieces moving round the board
Land bought and money stored

Hats at auction, deed on the line
Dogs feeling rich of cloud nine
Shoes at GO, a loans on his mind
Pall Mall's just needs to be signed

Super Tax is up
But he's out of a buck
Shoes players money's fading
His end game is waining

Tax evasion, cops are chasing
Shoes heart is racing
Get out of jails run out
The cops will get him no doubt

Who will be next to meet their fate
Fates about to have one big spate
Dogs player was on cloud nine
But his accounts now make him whine

Dogs cheques are blank
His life was so swank
Now he's on the streets
Sleeping under some sheets

Hat and Car still in the race
Both keeping up the pace
We all know that only one can win
Only one can wear the winners pin

Hat and Car, like tortoise and hare
Off to meet, Mr Monopoly, Mayor
Cars told that he's too far gone.
Leaving Car, MVP, number 1

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