#AmericanWriters
You drink a bitter draught. I sip the tears your eyes fight to… A cup of lees, of henbane steeped… Your breast is hot, Your anger black and cold,
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
He bad O he bad He make a honky poot. Make it honky’s blue eyes squint
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans
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,
Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press
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
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…
Shadows on the wall Noises down the hall Life doesn’t frighten me at all Bad dogs barking loud Big ghosts in a cloud
I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry
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…
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?