© Jan. 15, 2021. All Rights Reserved.
It all started when a boy said,
“Yadda yadda yadda.”
With slicked back hair into
An Afro puff,
And his black hair felt
Like a Chihuahua.
His cheeks were
Smoother than marshmallow fluff.
When he grew a beard,
He grew a mustache,
Trimmed like his lawn
When he rode the bus home.
His cologne made
The ladies give him cash
And he had a pocket comb
Made from Rome.
His necklace could
Stretch to the astrodome
He wore a fedora
And business suit.
The pendant on his necklace
Was in chrome.
His dress shoes fit
Like a vertical flute.
He walked like tornados
With a lawsuit.
Bluish-green above
With black on his chest.
All of his moves were
Like a photo shoot.
He was photogenic
With films impressed.
He could persuade
A crowd in a riot,
But used his talent
To be an actor
And those who saw him
Knew he was quiet
Until drama class
Became a factor.
There, his teacher
Was a strawberry blonde,
But sometimes, black, blue
And other colors.
More than the students,
He wanted to bond.
She was more bubbly
Than connoisseurs
When the sun blinded,
She’d still be around
And she’d cut promos
As drama lessons.
His acting ability was
Always in the background,
Then his acting was more
Valuable to his loved ones
Than his own soul, but the
Wall-mounted clock just went, “Tick-tock.”
He’d observe waiters and waitresses
For his acting skills.
When someone called the manager,
He’d hear an alarm clock
Often when he’d study philosophers,
He’d hear fire drills.
He studied how to build cars
And houses on a budget,
Sweating from how to turn
$1 into $1,000,000.
Somehow, in every language,
He learned the alphabet,
Studying how to be
A fugitive and civilian.
The next day, he had worn
Pillow-soft pajamas to school
To become the character
And he could improv a saint
And sometimes, he’d teach the teacher
About the golden rule.
He’d cry on cue and play dead
Until the walls dried from paint.
They say he loved her like,
“Love me. Love me. Love me,”
But God was watching like,
“Know me. Know me. Know me.”
What did he do from there?
Then the boy would lose and gain weight
By eating differently,
But most of the time, the boy
Ate what his family ate.
Someone gave him an award
For winning a spelling bee
Memorizing the tongue-tied
Like what’s the figure-of-eight.
After school, the teacher
Would chit-chat with the little boy,
Striking up a conversation
And becoming closer.
She’d wear Edwardian style clothing
And eye him like a toy,
Then she was a brunette
When the school had a bulldozer.
The boy didn’t need a syllabus
When there was field trips.
He got straight “A’s,” for
She helped him with his other classes
And if he had her,
There was no need for relationships.
Then, he got close enough
To remove his tinted glasses.
She was so attractive,
Her shadow could attract parades.
Seen in public together,
People thought she was a mom.
With more curves than a snowwoman
As a Jill of all trades,
Giving him bubble baths,
Forgetting what school he came from.
When he came,
She made him breakfast,
Lunch, dinner, and dessert.
He moved in with her
Where she helped him get an internship.
Her whole body wasn’t treated
Like sportsmanship or dirt.
She didn’t have pimps, but look at her,
And your heart would skip.
Her puckered lips made a sports team
On the most wanted list,
For through the window,
They saw her kissing the little boy.
When she taught drama class
At college, he couldn’t resist.
As her favorite working progress
With skills to enjoy,
She taught the class how to
Toss pizza dough and flip pancakes.
There she was to give the class
Driving lessons while acting.
Where most were nervous like they
Ruined many wedding cakes
When she said her lines, more than music,
They were distracting.
Yet, she’d kiss nobody,
But the little boy in private.
Humming after singing
While hugging in the bed, she’d sleep.
She was a step ahead
Of detectives and still unfit
If he was the teacher and
She was the girl, then, “What a creep.”
Once he aged, she then taught him how to perform CPR.
She’d pretend to lose air
While playing board games and he’d kiss.
She taught him piano
In sign language and that’s bizarre,
For he wasn’t def, but acted in
The mirror like bliss.
They’d put the TV on mute,
Talking over characters
And when they returned to school,
They didn’t know each other.
That’s when he said,
“Yadda yadda yadda” like the actors,
Interrupting her lecture,
Then she kissed him like a blur.
They say he loved her like,
“Love me. Love me. Love me,”
But God was watching like,
“Know me. Know me. Know me.”
That’s when he pray from there?
Isaiah Lawrence 