#AmericanWriters
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
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…
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that
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
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
Beloveds, now we know that we know… Without notice, our dear love can… In the instant that Michael is go… Though we are many, each of us is… Only when we confess our confusion…
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?
FOR DAVID P—B The eye follows, the land Slips upward, creases down, forms The gentle buttocks of a young Giant. In the nestle,
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running