The Exchange is the Weekly’s poetry corner, where a poem or piece of writing is presented with a prompt. Readers are welcome to respond to the prompt with original poems, and pieces may be featured in the next issue of the Weekly.
Big Homie by Chima “Naira” Ikoro
i didn’t even realize you’re 21. i just knew you were older than me. went away to school before me you feel so old because i am 18 but we’re both broke smoking blacks here and there, we’re not so different. you just have answers to questions i’m asking for the first time.
when i turn 21, your agemates will say they didn’t realize i hadn’t made it yet. i still haven’t made it yet. but i’ve met so many people that seem like they have.
just yesterday 21 was not that long ago, and i rarely feel like i’m running out of time since none of us actually know what the clock says. that, for some reason, scares me more. the idea that i could be the oldest i’ll ever be right now, and i wouldn’t have a clue.
i look at your face some times. you look so young. 21 is not old at all actually. every time i see a 21 year old i try to imagine you stuck younger than you felt. i’m older than you’ll ever be and some how you’re still older than me.
you now have questions for what i’d hope to answer and i redirect them to the front of every new notebook and every autumn. every fall, every tear, every time i encounter a situation that makes me want to call you and no one else. even still. after all this time.
i rarely feel like i am running out of time, instead, i wish i could run fast enough to lap it make it back to the place where you were as old as a boy can get before it’s too late so that we can be not so different again.
back when i didn’t know that what i asked you for the first time would be answered for the last. back when i didn’t realize what couldn’t last. back when i already trusted what could.
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Prompt:
“If you could travel back in time, instead of thinking about what you could change, write about what you’d keep the same.”
This could be a poem, journal entry, or a stream-of-consciousness piece. Submissions could be new or formerly written pieces.
