commencement

by Hadiyyah Kuma 
​I talk about wanting to be buzz lightyear
 
                                                and somebody asks what a lightyear is so
 
somebody else starts laughing,
 
                                                so the auditorium lights gleam in their eyes it’s him
 
so it’s greg who pretends to be a cowboy
 
                                                oh greg, you’re the whitest boy and buddy
 
that accent is so not tom hanks
 
                                                but we love you anyways ok angel
 
we do we love your glittering wings
 
                                                the truth is we always did, you’re sweet
 
thank you for being alive keep laughing
 
                                                the admin’s not looking laugh harder
 
we’re muscled up at the end of the stage
 
                                                sneakers titled downward, so ready to go
 
infinity-and-beyond on their asses
 
                                                my favorite kind of growth is keeping my eyes
 
on a stone cherub as I catapult into the pit
 
                                                the whooshing’s like a small heaven it’s
 
so good I write it in everyone’s yearbook
 
                                                I wear my sneakers until they bust so bad
 
my toes hit against the pavement
 
                                                and the bottom of my socks turn black like soot
Hadiyyah Kuma is an emerging fiction, poetry, and freelance writer from Toronto, Ontario. Her work has been featured in the Jellyfish Review, The Rumpus, Cosmonauts Avenue, and Ghost City Review. She’s curated a playlist of restaurant sounds because she is soothed by indiscernible chatter.  (Twitter: @hahadiyyah)