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Morgan Freeman Knows


Morgan Freeman is at Panera every morning,
white shirt brown slacks and back to the window
so he can see inside.
His hair looks made,
shaped by some Tim Burton character
who took the time to ensure every strand of snow and night
stand perfectly straight
in a designated place ending far from scalp.
I’m always too distracted by his presence
to notice if he chews or has a cup or a plate,
so I’m not sure if he’s alive or making fun of the living.
He never speaks and
none of the servers acknowledge the corner where he sits-
I want to talk with him, hear his voice,
see if I can give him something in exchange for confirmation he exists.
I want to take the picture that he is before his screen,
send it to publishers and ask them what they mean
when they name a book Computers For Seniors For Dummies.
I’m sure he’s as grateful for those books as I am
for The Guide To Becoming The Sensuous Black Woman.

Tell me please
how being sensuous is color-specific and
how it’s something one can learn from the pages of a book.
Tell me, Mr. Freeman, what do you think?
Do we need instructions to be those things we are and
can we navigate a world without justforus directions?

I don’t know.
I told Thesun how to be more round but
I can’t tell if he took my advice.



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