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

Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press

Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts

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?

Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.

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

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,

Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.

The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.

One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,

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,

Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city

I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry