#Americans #Blacks #Women
There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry
Soft grey ghosts crawl up my sleev… to peer into my eyes while I within deny their threats and answer them with lies. Mushlike memories perform
When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big jok… A dance that’s walked A song that’s spoke,
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Marked the mastodon, The dinosaur, who left dried token… Of their sojourn here
I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Mark the mastodon. The dinosaur, who left dry tokens Of their sojourn here
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
There is no warning rattle at the… nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer… Safe in the dark prison, I know t… light slides over the fingered work of a toothless
We were entwined in red rings Of blood and loneliness before The first snows fell Before muddy rivers seeded clouds Above a virgin forest, and