impossible boy (a primer)

cedric rudolph

Someone stirs lemonade, sifts
in sugar. Someone cracks open
a Coors. Whoever tunes the dial
to “Motownphilly” activates my hips. I sweep
the air, erasing
an invisible chalkboard. Side to
side.
Then squat, bob my butt up, down.

Hey, Auntie. Hey, Cuz.

Someone find Cousin Will. He’s up the street
testing Red Devils. Someone taste the greens,
see if they need more pepper.

My butt heads North-South, East-West.
My Keds could rocket any second.

Wodie needs a ride, needs a plate,
won’t stop yelling from his lean-to across the street.

Dad, grabbing the camcorder, wants
to catch my liquid moves.
Grandma Betty yells, “Go ‘head!”

And here I go at the speed of boy.

Why do we need me on film—July 3, 1991?

Why ground me to this earth
with my quartz bones
this lightning

if I know how to levitate

and seek the pink ladder of the setting sun.

Cedric Rudolph is a Black, gay writer living in Pittsburgh. He currently works as a Visiting Lecturer for the University of Pittsburgh’s Writing Department. However, he has also taught for the Institute for Anti-Racist Education and led workshops in Allegheny County Jail and Passages Recovery Center. His poems are published in Christianity and Literature Journal, The Laurel Review, Santa Fe Literary Review, The Pittsburgh Neighborhood Guidebook and The Coal Hill Review.