Friday, April 4

A Poem #2

I'm late.


Message for, Perhaps, A God (1929-68)

my boys talk
your name

as if it is
a mathematical equation

doctor plus king
equals
a sweet satisfaction that
comes with
knowing they would prevail
in a fight against a white boy
should a white boy
walk through tompkins projects
on a friday night
pointing out their
blackness

forty years later, a handful of wars
my boys
still don't know
the differences between
birmingham
vietnam and
afghanistan

it's a whole
other story if we're
talking
a knock off swooosh and
the real thing

my loves
have lungs
too weak for the mountaintop

5 comments:

GirlGriot said...

Thanks. So glad to read this.

B! said...

you're welcome.

havestrength said...

love it!

PurpleZoe said...

You are seriously an incredible poet.

TruEssence said...

"my loves
have lungs
too weak for the mountaintop"

Very nice!! I enjoyed the whole piece!:)