Dog The dog trots freely in the streetand sees realityand the things he seesare bigger than himselfand the things he seesare his realityDrunks in doorwaysMoons on treesThe dog trots freely thru the streetand the things… Continue Reading
On the Pulse of Morning A Rock, A River, A TreeHosts to species long since departed,Marked the mastodon,The dinosaur, who left dried tokensOf their sojourn hereOn our planet floor,Any broad alarm of their hastening doomIs… Continue Reading
The Subject of Retreat in the storm. The snowwe don’t mentionclings to your boots & powders& puffs. & poof. Goes.Dust of the fallen. Right hereat home. The acheof someone gone-missing. Walk it offlike a misspoken… Continue Reading
How It Feels to Be Colored Me I am colored but I offer nothing in the way of extenuating circumstances except the fact that I am the only Negro in the United States whose grandfather… Continue Reading