#AmericanWriters
My man is Black Golden Amber Cha… Warm mouths of Brandy Fine Cautious sunlight on a patterned r… Coughing laughter, rocked on a whi… Graceful turns on woolen stilts S…
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
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, 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…
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?
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, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of lonelines… until love leaves its high holy te… and comes into our sight
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing
I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win
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
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
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
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone