Awaiting Tomorrow

There are novels bookmarked 
in my fingertips that I haven’t read yet.

Chapters of poems I haven’t titled, 
but waves of ballads to take you on 
a joy ride in the middle of the ocean.

I can drown you in a library 
of rhymes if I wanted to.

You flip the bird on me, 
I flip a page on you as 
gracefully as gymnast 
do somersaults.

Summon art and hearts 
catch holy ghost like foul balls; 
speaking in tongue like french kisses.

This is what I do for a living 
if you wanted to know. 
If not, just know 
there are novels bookmarked 
in my fingertips that I haven’t read yet.

Chapters of poems I haven’t titled.

A future I haven’t claimed.