#AmericanWriters #CitiesAndUrbanLife #SocialCommentaries
One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,
He bad O he bad He make a honky poot. Make it honky’s blue eyes squint
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,
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
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
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…
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing
You drink a bitter draught. I sip the tears your eyes fight to… A cup of lees, of henbane steeped… Your breast is hot, Your anger black and cold,
We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of lonelines… until love leaves its high holy te… and comes into our sight
When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…
My man is Black Golden Amber Cha… Warm mouths of Brandy Fine Cautious sunlight on a patterned r… Coughing laughter, rocked on a whi… Graceful turns on woolen stilts S…
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans
I keep on dying 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