Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city

Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.

Her arms semaphore fat triangles, Pudgy hands bunched on layered hip… Where bones idle under years of fa… And lima beans. Her jowls shiver in accusation

Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans

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?

Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave

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

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

Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.

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

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

We, this people, on a small and lo… Traveling through casual space Past aloof stars, across the way o… To a destination where all signs t… It is possible and imperative that…

The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.

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