#AmericanWriters
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,
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a
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 note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived
When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the stre… Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always
One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…
Pretty women wonder where my secre… I’m not cute or built to suit a fa… But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say,
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
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
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,