Saturday, August 18, 2012
Too small for our pants pockets
Too big in our brains
Wrecking the standard American Baptist conventions
We rolled down hills.
Resisting normalcy together
As if it were a novel endeavor
Because who has time to know where one is coming from
While jumping on trampolines.
We counted ourselves better
Than those who did not roll
And rock out to The Fundamental Elements of Southtown;
An innocent pride of youth.
The art of insult perfected at lunch
Hooty hoo’s is the hallways yet
Always seeing each other at the pole.
Redeeming our irreverence by holding hands
An outside observer reflecting on our systemic war
Might notice its shortcomings.
But wide-eyed, while there was a battle going on
We fought, and for this I am still proud.