• 4/30/92 for rodney king

    the body
    of one black man
    is rag and stone... more »

  • A Dream Of Foxes


    can blame her for hunkering... more »

  • Adam Thinking

    stolen from my bone
    is it any wonder
    i hunger to tunnel back... more »

  • Admonitions

    i don't promise you nothing
    but this
    what you pawn... more »

  • blessing the boats

    may the tide
    that is entering even now
    the lip of our understanding
    carry you out... more »

  • Climbing

    a woman precedes me up the long rope.
    her dangling braids the color of rain.
    maybe i should have had braids.
    maybe i should have kept the body i started,... more »

  • Cutting Greens

    curling them around
    i hold their bodies in obscene embrace
    thinking of everything but kinship.
    collards and kale... more »

  • Fury

    for mama

    remember this.
    she is standing by... more »

  • Good Times

    my daddy has paid the rent
    and the insurance man is gone
    and the lights is back on
    and my uncle brud has hit... more »

  • Harriet

    if i be you
    let me not forget
    to be the pistol... more »

  • Here Rests

    my sister Josephine
    born july in ‘29
    and dead these 15 years
    who carried a book... more »

  • Homage To My Hips

    these hips are big hips.
    they need space to
    move around in.
    they don't fit into little... more »

  • I Am Accused Of Tending To The Past

    i am accused of tending to the past
    as if i made it,
    as if i sculpted it
    with my own hands. i did not.... more »

  • Island Mary

    after the all been done and i
    one old creature carried on
    another creature's back, i wonder
    could i have fought these thing?... more »

  • It Was A Dream

    in which my greater self
    rose up before me
    accusing me of my life
    with her extra finger... more »

  • Listen Children

    listen children
    keep this in the place
    you have for keeping
    always... more »

  • Lorena

    it lay in my palm soft and trembled
    as a new bird and i thought about
    authority and how it always insisted
    on itself, how it was master... more »

  • Memory

    ask me to tell how it feels
    remembering your mother's face
    turned to water under the white words
    of the man at the shoe store. ask me,... more »

  • Miss Rosie

    when I watch you
    wrapped up like garbage
    sitting, surrounded by the smell
    of too old potato peels... more »

  • Moonchild

    whatever slid into my mother's room that
    late june night, tapping her great belly,
    summoned me out roundheaded and unsmiling.
    is this the moon, my father used to grin.... more »

  • My Mama Moved Among The Days

    My Mama moved among the days
    like a dreamwalker in a field;
    seemed like what she touched was here
    seemed like what touched her couldn't hold,... more »

  • Poem In Praise Of Menstruation

    if there is a river
    more beautiful than this
    bright as the blood
    red edge of the moon if... more »

  • Poem to My Uterus

    You uterus
    you have been patient
    as a sock... more »

  • Praise Song

    to my aunt blanche
    who rolled from grass to driveway
    into the street one sunday morning.
    i was ten. i had never seen... more »

  • Seeker Of Visions

    what does this mean.
    to see walking men
    wrapped in the color of death,
    to hear from their tongue... more »