Upward Streamers



There is a baobab tree in Limpopo
South Africa 6000 years old

when you touch this piece of history
this thing of the world

more ancient than empire
you hold neither leaves nor roots

you touch the trunk which connects them

this would be a great metaphor to cure class division
or homophobia or

some high-minded shit like that
but there is no such thing as homophobia

not in this poem
in this poem we scratch at our fears

on steno pads
like good little introspective psychoanalysts

in this poem
we address that phobia often means hatred of

in this poem a boy doesn’t have to die
for people to know he is in love

in this poem
loving someone is still holy

in this poem
I told myself I wouldn’t make it about a boy

in this poem
in rare photographs that capture lightning

you can see upward streamers of energy failing
to make a connection

with the descending light


Sage is a creative writing undergrad and Blue House fellow at Elms College. Their work appears/will appear in Glass, Banango Street, Ellis Review, Stirring, Pittsburgh Poetry Review, and elsewhere. As a slam poet/spoken word artist, they often wander Massachusetts looking to throw down in the name of gender expression.