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Last Minute

I'm likely 85% ready in the
last five minutes,
then the cortisol high,
shocks me still,
I love my thoughts
slowing down in this,
time,
which is
just the panic
and then the utilitarian calm
of what's done is done,
complete and on time,
is a filter,
a boring trick,
I have no need for
a steady heart rate.
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Arizona

Marie's hair is a parade
white catching up to pink
tumbling on brown.
Pulled back, the years of
squinting into windshields
are raked into her cheeks:
'14 a day is alright, if you gotta.'
Marie turns Arizona over
and around in her mouth.
'I'd've quit the circuit years ago
if it weren't for Arizona.'
All that coffee. That sky.
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Professional development

My lizard brain on the defense
my clumsy tongue 
my crude crayon drawing

We are in a cold basement 
talking about race
it seems we collude 
to contain the conversation to a day 
here and there 
those of us in white bodies 
have gotten good at holding things off
turning blind eyes
quickly nodding, when necessary 

My thoughts are drawn back 
to myself
my lizard brain
my clumsy tongue
the muscle to pull them away and listen --
without my guilt ballooning up to block the way
or my defensiveness looming large --
the muscle is weak
unpracticed
like drawing with my left hand.

On butcher paper we are to draw
an early experience with race
my crayons don't capture 
my blazing cheeks
sitting in the backseat with Nina
as my dad grips the steering wheel
and barks don't say that.
I didn't want a brown mask
I said,
because brown is ugly.
She was younger than me,
but does she remember?
What would she have drawn with crayons?
So far my lizard brain
my clumsy tongue
haven't dared to ask.
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