#AmericanWriters
I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot
Before I leave the stage I will sing the only song I was meant truly to sing. It is the song of I AM.
The old men used to sing And lifted a brother Carefully Out the door I used to think they
His posture From so many years Holding his robe with one hand Is odd. His gait
Remember When we ended It all —for a weekend— & how
When they torture your mother plant a tree When they torture your father plant a tree When they torture your brother
in our lifetime. Which makes the idea of elections Notice how this word has “man” right in the middle of it? That’s one reason I like it. He is right there, front and center. But he i...
When you see water in a stream you say: oh, this is stream water; When you see water in the river you say: oh, this is water
To change the world enough you must cease to be afraid of the poor. We experience your fear as the lea… humiliations; in the past
If my sorrow were deeper I’d be, along with you, under the ocean’s floor; but today I learn that the oil that pools beneath the ocean floor
She is the one who will notice that the first snapdragon of Spring is
Word reaches us that you are sleeping, sleeping. Dismayed we have turned to the sea. We encounter among others
My brothers knew The things you know. I did not scorn learning them; It’s just my mind
You confide in me that you are lonely,
As if I’ve swallowed A watermelon And Sidestepping My digestive tract