#AmericanWriters
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
There is no warning rattle at the… nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer… Safe in the dark prison, I know t… light slides over the fingered work of a toothless
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…
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
A last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
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
The night has been long, The wound has been deep, The pit has been dark, And the walls have been steep. Under a dead blue sky on a distant…
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the stre… Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always
He bad O he bad He make a honky poot. Make it honky’s blue eyes squint
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?
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that