#AmericanWriters
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
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…
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone
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…
When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that
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
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
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
Shadows on the wall Noises down the hall Life doesn’t frighten me at all Bad dogs barking loud Big ghosts in a cloud
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
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 dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,