Six PoemsI.Cane sugar held him he walked with a cane of sugar he walked with sugar cane. II. The poor woman’s pants are too short. The short woman selects coffee, takes it to the counter, & pays. III. I sit waiting to strike— as a snake—gold. But maybe the only gold I’m gonna get is the glop on my eyelids. IV. I will trade in cold for hot and I’m none the worse for it. V. Cross-eyed babies, babies with their wings out, babies squalling, fists clenched like father & other than these I have no stories. VI. Stars are castanets & I’m having a bad hair day. Fuzz buzzes along the electric line; static. I look up. These lines speak. |
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