people keep tellin me to put my feet on the ground
i get mad & scream/ there is no ground
only shit pieces from dogs horses & men who dont live
anywhere/ they tell me think straight & make myself
somethin/ i shout & sigh/ i am a poet/ i write poems/
i make words/ cartwheel & somersault down pages
outta my mouth come visions distilled like bootleg
whiskey/ i am like a radio but i am a channel of my own
i keep sayin i do this/ & people keep askin what am i gonna do
what the hell is goin on?
did somebody roll over the library witta atomic truck
did hitler really burn all the books/ it's true
nobody in the united states can read or understand
english anymore/ i must have been the last survivor of
a crew from mars/ this is where someone in brown cacky comes
to arrest me & green x-ray lights come outta my eyes & i
can leap over skyscrapers & fly into the night/ i can
be sure no one will find me cuz i am invisible to
ordinary human beings in the u.s.a./ there are no poets
who go to their unemployment officer/ sayin i wanna put
down my profession as 'poet'/ they are sure to send you to
another office/ the one for aid to totally dependent persons/
people keep tellin me these are hard times/ what are you gonna be
doin ten years from now/ what in the hell do you think/ i
am gonna be writin poems/ i will have poems/ inchin up the
walls of the lincoln tunnel/ i am gonna feed my children poems on
rye bread with horseradish/ i am gonna send my mailman off
with a poem for his wagon/ give my doctor a poem for his heart/
i am a poet/ i am not a part-time poet/ i am not an amateur
poet/ i dont even know what that person cd be/ whoever that
is authorizing poetry as an avocation/ is a fraud/
put yr own feet on the ground/ writers dont have to plan
another existence forever to live schizophrenically/ to
be jane doe & medea in one body/
i have had it/ i am not goin to grow up to be somethin else
i am goin to be ol & grey & wizened & wise as aunt mamie/
i am gonna write poems til i die & when i have gotten outta
this body i am gonna hang round in the wind & knock over
everybody who got their feet on the ground/ i'ma let you
run wild & leave a poem or two with king kong
in his aeroplane to drop pieces of poems
so you all will haveta come together/ just to figure out/
how you got so far away/ so far away from words
however/ did you capture language/ is a free thing.~Ntozake Shange
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