#AmericanWriters
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone
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…
There is no warning rattle at the… nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer… Safe in the dark prison, I know t… light slides over the fingered work of a toothless
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
Her arms semaphore fat triangles, Pudgy hands bunched on layered hip… Where bones idle under years of fa… And lima beans. Her jowls shiver in accusation
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…
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…
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
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
Pretty women wonder where my secre… I’m not cute or built to suit a fa… But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say,
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
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans