Well, maybe it's harder to to connect with the poets, separated by a greater cultural canyon. Who are you reading?
Dear Mothership,
Marcus Wicker
Earth is reeking. And we obsidian-backed, winged
cling to the funk in a language that never fails: Peace vibes.
Wonderment & all that pimp shit. An ambrosia we invent
to savor roses through the stink. Like witchgrass effacing
a wheat bed with a gangster lean, bias paralyzes
their country—white flame searing through red & blue cells.
Branded into whosoever drinks. America, the perforated
straw in a single fold; stop creasing my visage with grief!
If only in the beginning someone said: I wish us the sun
& everything under it. Perhaps then we'd survive by friendship,
happiness, justice, love. Say: Together we can do the necessary.
If only from the jump pled everyone at the house party:
Mothership, teach me how to be neighborly. How to gather light
in. Then release. Mother, please teach me how to be human.
this is the poem i am analyzing for the second analysis