but the fighter still remains: a letter of thanks to simon and garfunkel

Location

37076
United States
36° 9' 37.6704" N, 86° 35' 25.9332" W

when i was cells
dividing
my mother would sing, even then she would sing
"i am just a poor boy // though my story's seldom told..."
i was born into poetry and lullabies
and maybe my dna can resonate with rhyme

when i was cells
multiplying
my mother would sing, when her demons were clawing her back
even then she would sing
"all lies and jest // still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest..."

before i knew what cells were
my first poem was for my mother
a beam of light to fight off the pitch unknowns in her mind
and to this day every now and then i find
new tools to put into words, new words to make into tanks
to battle for her and to battle for me
and to battle more than anything for certainty
because the cigarettes and self-loathing kept my mother from singing
but never from feeling
like a fighter, laid down by the gloves of boxers and doctors

i tag myself in as much as i can
for any fight i feel needs fighting
though my blows and my imagination mean nothing to hallucination
i fight for my mother
and for myself
for certainty and for philosophy
for love and for biology--
i am more than cells dividing
and i am writing, i am fighting
and i will sing, even then i will sing,
through concrete or abstract pain
i am only a writer because i was born a fighter
and the fighter will always remain

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