#AmericanWriters
I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry
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,
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
A last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
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
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
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
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press
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