#AmericanWriters
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Mark the mastodon. The dinosaur, who left dry tokens Of their sojourn here
I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry
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 note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that
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
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
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?
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 wear the mask that grins and li… It shades our cheeks and hides our… This debt we pay to human guile With torn and bleeding hearts… We smile and mouth the myriad subt…
Beloveds, now we know that we know… Without notice, our dear love can… In the instant that Michael is go… Though we are many, each of us is… Only when we confess our confusion…
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave