Machete
you and i were the 'good kids'
only spoke when spoken to
never picked a fight
didn't color outside the lines
later we learned that they
were sifting through all our art
ascertaining who lay on the
extremities of the bell curve
who might have a troubled home life
and/or
who might have an aptitude for fine art
... we were somewhere in the middle
fast forward thirty years or so...
we discovered a magic quill
that served as a machete
clearing out the underbrush
of this dense jungle we call
life
we learned to think outside
the quadrilateral parallelogram
and found the outer rim
of that bell curve
we no longer raised our hands
waiting to be called on
we delved deep and found
a singular
phenomenon
inside us -
our voice
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