I am
born on the horizon line
an east coast baby cries
she is black
onyx spirit of soft stone
malleable as clay
candy coated flesh
of sienna lacquer divine
her mind clear even
in the balance of her
queer nature women & men
divine & divided equally
into a desire of both of one
blessed beloved
full-bodied flavorful design
thick lips hips & legs
short-stacked among giants
when she falls she falls deep
deep in voids with a mouth
open wide wider widen
long fevers of growing old
yet forever the baby will
cry in a fog of memory
wait for the respite
burning off bright by
the rising sun
Other Works
Red Hook: A Life
by Nicholas Clemente
... He had grown old before his time ...
Where we were
by Tyler Dempsey
... Where we were, is where, people, in this wooded, hole-in-the-wall place ...