There are some nights when
sleep plays coy,
aloof and disdainful.
And all the wiles
that I employ to win

Funky blues
Keen toed shoes
High water pants
Saddy night dance
Red soda water

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?

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone

They went home and told their wive
that never once in all their lives
had they known a girl like me,
But... They went home.
They said my house was licking cle

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

We die,
Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke
Stranglers to our outstretched nec
Stranglers, who neither care nor
care to know that

A last love,
proper in conclusion,
should snip the wings
forbidding further flight.
But I, now,

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 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