“We cannot walk alone. And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back.”  –Martin Luther King Jr.
 
Reimagine the Day
to be read from the bottom up

My sons walk with me, ’til the darkness is unclaimed and turning back is a mere crumb of memory. Let us.
the ruin. Let us borrow the sky and what has and hasn’t been imagined; Let us borne the warmth; Let us.
been at the bottom of knowing. Please do mourn my ignorance; climb with me; let us bring down
and wait for answers I do not have…Dear Sons, I am still searching for my name. I have
the fear of saying any of this aloud permeates to the breakfast table where my sons sit
who I am; or who I have invented to survive what cannot be changed…and now,
you get it; it’s in my throat; and I can’t articulate what I feel, what I know;
breasts; sagging; I’m rejected on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday…
my waist; I’m leaning over in hesitation and self-pity; my
into my calves; my standing isn’t strong today
into recollection, from my feet
of my belly and leaks
from the bottom
always starts
It

Kay Bell is the author of two collections of poetry: Cry Sweat Bleed Write (Lily Poetry Review Books, 2020) & Diary of an Intercessor (forthcoming by Finishing Line Press, 2021).  She received her MFA from The City College of New York where she was the 2015 recipient of the Esther Unger Poetry Prize, and the 2018 co-recipient of the David Dortort Prize in Creative Writing for Non-Fiction. Kay lives in the South Bronx and is passionate about issues that affect marginalized communities and bringing the arts back to public school.