Slap
No more than a breath
the extension of my hand
leaves hearts asunder
Chiburui – “shaking off the blood” in the Japanese martial art of iaidÅ
We Held Hands
On the back of a graduation picture
A thousand words
suggested more than suspected
invitations and challenges confused
a journey begun ending
with the words your friend
Iâve kept the photo
for no understanding
a practical woman my sister
had said youâll need someone
long before reading your voice
Was it me or you who called
when I drew the curtains
offered incense
just time to brush my teeth
before making out
on a plastic covered couch
neither of us heard the key
Mom went to her room
took off tired shoes
called me and said
get that out my house
I said sheâs a woman
I never told you that
when I told you to go
I should have told you that
II
We held hands and watched Carson
your leg over mine
talking drinking vodka and orange juice
waiting for your folks to fall asleep
when my hand would find
the small of your back
the inside of your thigh.
I guess your mama knew
your daddy told
or kept secrets
I expected him to beat me
for loving you
Did your momma say ritual things
sing songs of womanhood
scar you.
Your smile made music
and I wrapped myself in it
as often as I could.
III
Propped on an elbow
I watched you breathe
my hand traced your breasts
smiling on my back
I watched the ceiling
as if it were the sky
finished my drink and showered hoping
you would wake
find me clean
next to you
The doorbell rang at dawn
and I embarrassed
mumbled some excuse I went
nowhere but left
He enjoyed the telling
and described you better than I could
I remember turning volcanic
until he said I wish
I painted watercolors
and didnât know art
until I watched you walk.
The Black Guy’s Poem
-Because we have pain too and want to talk about it-
We tack in and out of love
and we’re left
on beaches
by bitches
wearing our britches.
Trousers handed over
in the name of love
our strength stolen
while our pants were down.
We thought because our names
were in their mouths
their strength was ours
it wasn’t and would not be.
Though there are black holes
in the universe
we would claim
It is not a [Black] Man’s World.
We are the kilroy
caretakers in the pharaoh’s tomb
embalmed and linen wrapped
no jewels to be stolen
there is a reason to fetter angels.
They may fly to close to god
and steal.
Fried Chicken & Philosophy 