Spoken Word “Touchscreen” by Marshall Jones Introducing the new Apple iPerson Apple picking has always come at a great cost. complete with multitouch and volume control iPod iMac iPhone iChat: doesn't it feel good to touch? I can do all of these things without making eye contact. doesn't it feel good to touch? We used to sprint to pick and store blackberries. doesn't it feel good to touch? Now we run to the Sprint Store to pick Blackberries; it's scary. My world is so digital I can't hear the sound of mother nature speaking over that I have forgotten what that feels like; all this tweeting, it used to be hard to connect when friends formed and along with it is our ability to feel as it's fleeting. cliques, You would think these headphone jacks inject in the but it's even more difficult to connect now that clicks flesh form friends, the way we connect to disconnect But who am I to judge? power on, I face Facebook but we are powerless; more than books face me they got us love drugged hoping to Like e-pills, book face-to-faces. so we E*TRADE, I update my status email, 420 spaces e-motion, to prove that I am still breathing; like e-commerce failure to do this daily because now money can buy love means my whole web wide world will forget that I exist, for $9.95 a month but with 3,000 friends online- click only five I can count in real life- to proceed the checkout why wouldn't I spend more time in a world where there click are more people that 'like' me? to x out where our hearts once where Wouldn't you? click. Here, it doesn't matter I've uploaded this hug; I hope she gets it. if I'm an amateur person click as long as I have a 'pro' file; I'm making love to my wife; I hope she's logged in. my smile is 50% genuine click and 50% genuine HD. I'm holding my daughter over a Skype conference call You would need blu-rays to see the white on my teeth, while she's crying in the crib in the next room, but I'm not that focused: click ten tabs open-- so when my phone goes off in my hip iTouch and iTouch hopin' and iTouch my problems can be resolved with a 1600 by 1700 because in a world resolution; where there are voices that are only read this is a problem with this evolution: and laughter is never heard doubled over we used to sit in tree tops or I'm so desperate to feel till we swung down and stood upright, that I hope the Technologic can reverse the universe then someone slipped a disc; so the screen can touch me back, now we are doubled over at desktops and maybe it will. from the Garden of Eden When our technology is advanced enough... to the branches of Macintosh. to make us human again. “Knock,Knock” by Daniel Beaty As a boy I shared a game with my father. But I'm forgetting who you are. Played it every morning 'til I was 3. He would knock knock on my door, And twenty-five years later a little boy cries, And I'd pretend to be asleep And so I write these words and try to heal 'til he got right next to the bed; And try to father myself, Then I would get up and jump into his arms: And I dream up a father who says the words my "Good morning, Papa." father did not: And my papa he would tell me that he loved me. We shared a game: Dear Son, Knock, Knock. Until that day when the knock never came. I'm sorry I never came home For every lesson I failed to teach, hear And my momma takes me on a ride past corn these words: Shave in one direction in fields strong deliberate strokes to avoid On this never ending highway 'til we reach a irritation. Dribble the page with the place of high, brilliance of your ballpoint pen. Rusty gates. Walk like a god and your goddess will A confused little boy, come to you. I entered the building carried in my mama's arms Knock, Knock. No longer will I be there to knock on your door,so you must learn to knock We reach a room of windows and brown faces. for yourself. Knock, knock down doors Behind one of the windows sits my father. of racism and poverty that I could not. I jump out of my mama's arms Knock, knock down doors of And run joyously towards my papa opportunity for the lost brilliance of Only to be confronted by this window. the black men who crowd these cells. I knock, knock trying to break through the glass Knock,knock with diligence for the sake Trying to get to my father. of your children. Knock, knock for me, I knock, knock as my mama pulls me away for as long as you are free, these prison Before my papa even says a word. gates cannot contain my spirit. And for years he has never said a word, The best of me still lives in you. And so twenty-five years later, I write these Knock, knock with the knowledge that words you are my son, but you are not my For the little boy in me who still awaits his choices. papa's knock: Papa, come home cause I miss you. Yes, we are our fathers' sons and daughters, I miss you waking me up in the morning and But we are not their choices. telling me you love me. For despite their absences, we are still here Papa, come home, cause there's things I don't Still alive, still breathing know, With the power to change this world And I thought maybe you could teach me: One little boy and girl at a time. How to shave; Knock knock. How to dribble a ball; Who's there? How to talk to a lady; We are. How to walk like a man. Papa, come home because I decided a while back I wanted to be just like you, “Hir” by Alysia Harris and Aysha El Shamayleh Melissa sits in the back of the classroom afraid And Melissa has been tucking in breasts that to speak up, will be growing for three years now, She pulls akwardly at her extra loose khaki Been using duct tape to press them down and cargo pants, mould them more into pecs, She doesn’t want the boys to notice her. She just wishes that people would understand that at birth her genitals didn’t know which way James finds himself at the back of a classroom, to grow, His baseball cap casts a shadow on his pimple Mad at God who couldnt relay a message stained forehead, directly to her hormones that they should A wide shirt hangs from his broad shoulders, produce more testosterone, But no one ever noticed him. The only person who understands her is James, And they have been playmates since the age of Melissa four, The teacher asks, Around the time girls notice boys and boys And she says nothing because she is not here, notice girls, And Melissa has never been here, See James’ family wanted daughters instead of Because Melissa is just some abstract jumble of sons, syllables that doesn’t fit her position, And Melissa was always like that male beetle She is not what she seems, that everyone called a ladybug, She doesn’t want to have to explain to her mother for the 232nd time why she doesn’t Melissa, Melissa where is she? want to wear a dress to prom, Sometimes she wishes she could rip the skin of Doesn’t paint her face it’s cause her whole body her back, is painted on. Every moment of everyday feels trapped in the flesh of a stranger, Melissa, Melissa Melissa, James doesn’t want to have to explain where he As she stands to her feet wanting to say came from, “I’m here, I’ve been here since I was born, so Cause with the exception of Melissa he has quit asking me if I’m a him or a her, Cause when been deemed an abstract reality by everyone, you combine the two pronouns you get H.I.R, All he wishes for is to get to wear a tuxedo to Hir, prom. And God combined the two genders and put me in this body transgendered, I’m here so quit talking about me like I’m not here.” James falls back into Melissa’s skin, And the two comfort each other in a syncapated heartbeats, Waiting for the day when Melissa can finally scrub off this made up genetic make up, When the teacher asks for James and he can say “I’m here.” “Counting Graves” by The Steinmenauts 10…9…8… JÉSUS: Hustling a sugar-like substance in the form 7-year-old boy put of pot and rocks on a block run by three hustlers 6 feet deep in a who didn’t like him decided that the only way to 5-foot coffin, wonderin’ what get their commission was to put him out of his. 4 while So they drove by and saw one guy sitting on the 3 grown men have to steps wearing big brothers’ clothes, gun out, 2 to drive by and he dodged a couple of bullets pulled the trigger six times ….