#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
Shadows on the wall Noises down the hall Life doesn’t frighten me at all Bad dogs barking loud Big ghosts in a cloud
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,
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…
Soft grey ghosts crawl up my sleev… to peer into my eyes while I within deny their threats and answer them with lies. Mushlike memories perform
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
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…
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
He bad O he bad He make a honky poot. Make it honky’s blue eyes squint
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
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,