Since the beginning of it all
we've tried to be the individual
when we all pounded our head against the rock
in the very same rhythm.
Who was the first
to pick up a twig
to peel apart the bark
and see something to
more neatly split bones
and shiv their friend in the back?
Who was the first to find an
enclaved rock
so curved it caused their voice to
boom- so loud they could
see a fourth wall between them
and the gawking few.
Who?
Since the beginning of it all
we've tried to be the individual
when we all pounded our head against the rock
in the very same rhythm.
But only a few make a sound.
Tickle your toes. . .
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there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
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That previous December, a little voice was coyly in-treat-ing: "Take an angry butcher knife to your hair, and paint it the color of a s...
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Another Indian woman living on our block has hair swept back and braided has jeweled toes, is in all yellow traditional regalia, and walks w...
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Under a blanket it was at high altitudes in love or nauseous? I once held his hand his touch was so soothing-but with a lion's face. and...
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like a hand that holds an ankle, I felt powerful in your arms this dancing, this pointed push, this bygone cloud. with my face in your belly...
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At age 25 for Sir John Donne Down went San Felipe. Crimson and pale, rippling, clinging to it's mist. Oh, how that flagship hurled itsel...
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