My little sister is beautiful.She has our father’s eyes, brown.Her mother’s skin—light, blinding.
Something in her skin draws meand I look like a confused scribble,a...
What’s Left of My Grandmother’s Signature
In her room at Poet’s Walkher first name begins witha cursive J elegantlycompleting itself on the wall,
resting in suspended...
HUSBAND
A handthat reaches out
mooring mefrom a night of wind-tossed dreams
luring me back to portthis bed our terra firma
the heat of his palmthe only thing...
To the
Poet—S. K.—
on Channel WNET-13
Your unexpected
radiance lightens the gloom
in Brooklyn. You hunch;
you sit by the sea.
Rumbling like the rumpled waves,
your voice splashes me....
A Kind of Spring
The best time to fall in love
is when you share your greatest fear
with someone who isn’t listening.
There’s a decent chance that
will...
There is in the Water
What happened here the history I mean thismean thing there right there the bridgewhere they were lynched and who elsewas there and this is always here Ito make them mean something and howcan inanimate objects say...
occupier artclasswindow is crackedopen to let fresh air in. outsidesunny schoolyard under
lovely cloudless sky,the kind of blue beggingto be licked and torn asunderby hungry...
