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Category: Poems
The Mark
It is like a chalkboard
Slate
It is covered in writing
Whatever it says
In a second
With the help of a wet wash rag
It is all gone
Wiped clean.
Grace
The sun inches up
The sky trips as it changes each minute a new shade of blue
The outline of the horizon becomes more distinct
The noises on the street a little louder
Another day the sun comes for a visit
Another afternoon she says grace
She: Divine Mother
Roses, dahlias, poppies, irises
The petals, the soil, the plantings, the statues
To be around her is a blessing
To listen to her is a beautiful song
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Algorithm
The word transcends this body
The most precious algorithm
The collection of individual meanings
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The body politic
Can I watch it unfold
Hold it
Love it
Play it
But not fall prey to it
Can I kiss it while it’s hot
Say okay and not be attached
Let whoever it is have their time to think
To be impassioned with the blood of our history
Can I just-ly stand witness
Kiss them on the lips and say I’m listening
Cause I am
Dallas
It was so long ago
I don’t even remember
What happened in Dallas
There was a girl standing on the street
And someone came up to her
He slapped her and said
“Get off the street, you don’t belong here”
She stood upright, looked him in the eyes
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