Our Daily Medicine
from the poetic exhibit volume i : the intimacy of laughter
Where two or more are gathered
laughter rises up like praise,
voices stomping, a whole lotta clapping,
running, and shouting.
A chorus of joy, wild and holy,
baptizing us in rhythm and love.
From the outside it sounds chaotic,
hostile and fearful, but inside this circle,
Mike roasting Junior, Dre dapping him up,
Kev pointing to Asia, all on one accord,
as the noise spills out like medicine.
Terry cheesing gums wide,
Tasha hiding chuckles in her palms,
Simone bent over, stomach hurting.
Pat’s laugh hella contagious, Marcia heavy handed
tearing up shoulders, Leroy running laps like a ritual.
The joke fade, but the laughter don’t.
It’s lit again, new place, different time,
same vibes, same healing.
In the car, at the table,
cookout, park bench.
No rules, just rhythm.
From running away to running in circles
from high fives to high-pitched screams,
voices clashing, hands slap-boxing
laughter seeping in our bones
awakening something deep inside.
As alive as we feel,
we cry “I’m dead,” “I’m weak”
As good as it feels
We shout “stawwpppp,” “you gotta chill.”
As deep as our love
we say “you a fool,” “you crazy.”
It’s our language, our rhythm,
our unspoken connection.
For a moment, troubles disappear,
laughter our daily bread,
laughter our daily medicine.
Spirit lifted, joy reborn.
Where two or more are gathered
comedians and healers are in the midst.
