You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you?

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.

A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing

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

Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press

The highway is full of big cars going nowhere fast And folks is smoking anything that… Some people wrap their lies around… And you sit wondering

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

I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived

A last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,

When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence

I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,