(c) Breeze Vincinz

This poem is inspired by the book "Haunted" by Chuck Palahniuk Skeletons

A poem about Breeze Vincinz

“I have always hated Halloween,” says Breeze Vincinz “for a couple of different reasons.” Skeletons were the worse. Breeze Vincinz onstage, the cuffs of his oversized jeans folded up to reveal dirty, worn inexpensive shoes. His hair shorn close to the scalp revealing a pink, scaly map of a psoriatic rash. Onstage, instead of a spotlight, a movie fragment: Various shots of the high rise public housing buildings that used to litter the Chicago skyline. Children play in cement playgrounds with steel jungle gyms and slides. Onstage stands Breeze Vincinz, scratching the dried skin of the map on his head with one hand, Reading text messages on his cell phone in the other. He says, “My whole neighborhood would get so excited about wearing a costume.” But I always thought it was a betrayal of who you really were. Something close to a lie. Counterfeit. And to be a skeleton. To be dead. You volunteer to be your own murderer, pall bearer and caretaker His face crowded with children, playing, yelling, screaming. Breeze Vincinz says, “You pay money to play dead.” To fit into the zeitgeist of cultural norms, you kill yourself every year. Even as a kid it just didn’t sit right with me. “Although as an adult I better understand the inclination.” Breeze Vincinz says, “I’ve loosened up a little bit.” But the skeletons still bother me. I don’t think kids should ever be skeletons. And I think there should be a holiday the opposite of Halloween in which you receive money to act like you’re alive. And a map that always tells you where you are. #nationalpoetrymonth "Life As A Boy: Poems" by Breeze Vincinz Available NOW on Amazon