phase shift…

i know
where
i began
and
that
there is
an end
i can recall
the heights
of joy
and
still
can feel
the pain
of
my
deepest sadness
i wonder
do i
divide
those by 2
or
do i
use
the years
i’ve lived
in
this
equation of life
but
more importantly
where
am
i now

 

prepackaged tomorrow…

back porch silhouettes
spring leaves
clinging
to
trees
like
memories
of
youth
it’s
shopping day
a short drive
to
the market
in
a car
he almost
always
drove
on the list
lettuce and carrots
for
the cute bunnies
that
visit
the backyard
each
evening
welcomed
company
seven
frozen dinners
for
the week
some
lemonade
and
a large bottle
of
vodka

 

naked in bed…

don’t sleep
in
no
fancy
silk pajamas
don’t wanna cover up
my
birthmark
cuz
i
don’t want
the
lord
making any mistakes
about
whose
time it is
or
who
did what
with
whom
last saturday night
not
that
the lord
would make a mistake
but
given
his angels
were once human
well
enough said

 

an easter query…

crossing
the railroad tracks
the pastor
arrived
at
an old
post-war bungalow
residence
of
miss maybel
who
in her prime
was
much sought after
by
a number
of
the town’s
most
charming
and
handsome
men
of
color
but
she had said
no
to all
saying
i’ve fought
for
women’s rights
civil rights
and
looked after
white folks’ homes
and
their children
so
i don’t
have time
or
energy
to look after
anyone else
but
myself
age
took her suitors
some
time ago
as well as
most
of
her women friends
she didn’t make it to
good friday service
so
pastor
decided to stop by
she didn’t
answer
the door
but
it was open
calling in
he thought
he heard her
so
he entered
pale
sitting
in a chair
was maybel
death
even makes
a man of god
stop and evaluate
life
but
he quickly
resumed his role
and
asked
if she
was ready
to meet
her maker
with
her last
inaudible
breath
she answered