Subject Object There's a language that contains only one word for apology but two hundred for damnation. When it comes to speaking this tongue, studies have shown that the publicly kind and privately cruel are equally fluent. Belief I've known that backyard tree for twenty-nine years. Sometimes, I pretend that it's a church where the birds are its most faithful parishioners and the occasional racoons and possums only attend to appease their ancestors. Rage Your hands are ten arsonists setting fires whenever you make fists. Ode to Asparagus Green stalk, steamed, the perfect bite between the teeth. Tasting earthy and sweet. After dinner, I might hold you aloft like a scepter as I parade through these city streets. Marital Bed Your brown skin and hips slide across white sheets— Dear Diane, you are the sweetest eclipse.
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Thanks, Sherman. It’s rare for me to be served four good poems in one sitting. Easily digested, may they parade in the streets of memory all day.
Always enjoy your writing- especially liked the one about Diane!