* La vaca, "the cow" in Spanish.
#AmericanWriters
When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.
Expect nothing. Live frugally On surprise. become a stranger To need of pity Or, if compassion be freely
If my sorrow were deeper I’d be, along with you, under the ocean’s floor; but today I learn that the oil that pools beneath the ocean floor
I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot
I Sing of Mumia brilliant and strong and of the captivity that few black men escape
She is the one who will notice that the first snapdragon of Spring is
With your unknown to me Odd magic You came To me:
Did you ever understand this? If my spirit was poor, how could… Was I depressed? Understanding editing, I see how a comma, removed or inse…
Before I leave the stage I will sing the only song I was meant truly to sing. It is the song of I AM.
Remember When we ended It all —for a weekend— & how
As if I’ve swallowed A watermelon And Sidestepping My digestive tract
His posture From so many years Holding his robe with one hand Is odd. His gait
My desire is always the same; wherever Life deposits me: I want to stick my toe & soon my whole body
If I was President The first thing I would do is call Mumia Abu—Jamal. No, if I was president
Knowing you might some day come and how unprepared I’ve always been like Mr. Sloppy in Charles Dickens’
