After Scoli Acosta's, “Floral Bouquet Headdress,” 2007
What did you know? Was it for you? I had to understand, see things in black and white. And I had to eat. Have to. And a threat and a tool. Here are hints of powder dandelions, but have you learned how to read? I had to, I had a fat finch. He's not worried. He knows there are ways to cut into dirty carrots, red cabbage, into black and white blooms I water. I had to read pictures in English and read lips, move past where most can see, past my head. Slice bananas for my sundaes. You still don't understand because you don't have to. But I don't have a choice. From under this mass of cotton balls, read the world's gestures in flits, in shorts, too hard and full of hiding places, a garden of prickly blossoms. Me, I found the two things I need to live: a chirping and a butter cutter.