Who writes poems about numbers?
[ 2 ]
The first shoe size I remember having is two.
I’m in a white dress in a big yellow room.
I see a rainbow on the wall and a big pink balloon
Follows me home with my size two shoes.
As I got older, 2 came with me
It won me raffles and made me feel lucky
I kept it close but let everybody see
My favorite number, until I met three.
[ 3 ]
Once upon a time, when I was eighteen,
I met a few aliens who came in a dream
They said my young child, you’re wild and free
But the world you know will soon be deceased.
What? I exclaimed. I know, and what for!?
For iPhones and plastic, and revolving car doors?
The trees and the land that was all here before
I’m trying to save it, but I can’t anymore...
She said keep it secret, tell no one; I swore,
We then hugged good-bye and she head for the door
Suddenly through a wormhole I saw one more
Blonde hair, purple suit; she was French, I was sure...
It soon became clear she was someone I knew
She was happy to see me and spoke French too
I asked what planet they were heading back to
But they only smiled and said they were just passing through
My number was still two, but I will still eighteen
When I flew to San Francisco something changed inside me
It started with bang and a girl name Sammi
Who played the guitar and had eyes that could speak.
Sam loved to speak French and shared songs with me
Said music was perfect and made her less angsty
She had these three dots from stick and poke ink
She said once, her skin was too pure for tattooing
So when she died, too young and so free
I felt rhythm change inside my heartbeat
Three stars called that night and I looked up to see
She elevated, I cried, and my number became three.
[ 4 ]
Beyonce has claimed the whole number four
Blue IV is one way she held down her fort
Some say she’s not from this dimension, but the fourth
While we’re stuck here in the third, wondering what we’re waiting for.
Since I heard that news, I see it all the time
That number appears everywhere in my life
As if it were an indicator of how you survive,
How you live, and how much value you have ‘til you die.
Though coveted it is, the magical beehive
Lucky three always prevails, and I think “OK fine
I’ll take three as my lucky, if not four, while I’m alive...”
Fuck it, reach for the stars.
Maybe one day I’ll have five?