for alice

a simple girl

 

 

 

   We had finished off the stew by noon, but a light still burned in the kitchen.

   Although the occupants, long since cursed out,

   sat quietly somewhere, plotting

   to kick my a*s.

   Till night came

   as night comes,

   black as Odile

   bowing to the spell,

   mesmerized by the goose steps

   of bird sorcerers.

   We should learn to sing

   like Countee Cullen.

   No.

   I'll take off my bad leg

   and lay it at the loveless

   door like Ella Fitzgerald,

   fall dead on the bluesy sand

   like Klute,

   turn wine into water

   like the miscreants of Jesus.

   And then lay my hopes down,

   like three sided dreams

   (you remember);

   Even pimps throw pennies

   into the well of

   wishes.

 

   Alice held no pertinent facts

   about her.

   No narrative,

   no stored up events.

   She wore an afro for years

   without Siswati,

   took an oath of secondary

   true,

   processed good and evil

   with overlordship;

   vessels of fake hair

   and sutra.

 

   The villian knows no gravity.

   Her gaze strabismic,

   when she would let me steal a kiss,

   closed one eye tightly in passion

   and the other finely breached

   the moons of Jupiter.

   She could smile thru burned

   toast and stale washrags,

   could fly like a winged roach

   in a heated square,

   could make love, green and

   rooted, like a fig tree,

   meaning

   she could push the walls down

   with mechanized, unmaned

   armadas,

   play cards,

   shave her corns, take the top off the neckbones

   and drive language

   and the breastfed to the shore.

 

   When wings envelop the moon,

   poetry means you can outride someone

   to the end.

   We read it out of passion,

   we write it because we are

   the true loves of misery,

   the curators of the fantastic,

   and we want woodborn panthers

   to guard our clothes.

Reviews

[Leslie Philibert]

I really admire the work of this poet. There is lots and lots of good things here. I like the scene setting of the first verse, concrete and visual and the way the poem builds up the subject with real names and lots of details, the lyrical quality of the writing and the way the poem unites the themes in the last stanza.
Really good literature.

[Eve]

Even pimps throw pennies

into the well of

wishes.
lol, I absolutely love that line! Incredible write! I enjoyed it very much!

[Emily B]

i saw Maya Angelou speak at the University of Cincinati, something amazing happened in the auditorium that day, hundreds of students came blinking into the light of day convinced they were in love with every other student who had just shared the experience, poetry and passion and that wonderful voice

you've got it

[Alessander]

And then lay my hopes down,/like three sided dreams/(you remember);/Even pimps throw pennies/into the well of/wishes.

I really thought those lines original. Making dreams "3-sides" really materializes it from airy nothings, casts it reality like a swords smith with a sword. And dreams are just as lethal and have shaped history just as much as swords.

you also have a unique way of flattering a woman lol

" She could smile thru burned

toast and stale washrags,

could fly like a winged roach

in a heated square,"

Not sure if that would ever get you laid, but I dig it.

Reading your work is an adventure that turns at every line. You have a way of turning to jolting imagery or odd connections (in a good way) so that the reader wants to keep going, not knowing what the next turn will bring.

Great phrasing too "woodborn panthers to guard our clothes" epitomizes this. Phrasing can not be taught. You either got it or you don't and you got it.

The drawback to your style is that sometimes it obfuscates or confuses (the "curse" of mod poetry), but that just means that the reader must go back and read it again a few times.

In the end, it's a joy re-reading and trying to jigsaw meaning from the imagery, metaphors and fragments. It's different, and to me that trumps a lot.

Great read. Will be looking out for more of your works.