Stay at home Mom

She discovered lies, an asp wrapped around her marriage.

She stole an internet love look.

She met two black strangers in a desolate parking lot.

She fucked them both, hidden behind rusted leaves.

She came home, woke her husband’s left-alone flaxen baby girl.

(the infant had slid out of her seven months ago like a green turd)

She fed the brat’s sniveling pink mouth with milk from her soiled sticky breast.

She drew gravel from her nostrils and spat on the boiling beef stew prepared for her spouse.

She served his 6 o’clock meal and slippers dressed in a crisp Donna Reed apron and smiled him a kiss.

The Crack Head

We ran low.

While smoking over Murt’s house

so we sent him out for more but he was cut down

By five pieces of lead spinning quickly I stepped over

his staring eye after blood running down the street to trap

the fleeing gunman to beg him please sell me two more.

The Ghetto

Maria saved her own and her three beige children’s

yellow project piss in large Hellmann’s jars,

and threw it out of her neat third floor apartment window

at the crack head bitches she heard

loudly sucking dick at all hours of the night.

The Widower

Crows are in late autumn trees

and you are gone, Empress.

I am broken in the places

you have touched me.

The chain around my neck

is your heavy hands and they are cold now,

smoke leaves my mouth.

My heart beat is a red apple.

I perch on stiff chairs a marionette, unused,

with tattered ropes; freed from your loud party.

I am a smoky jazz trio sadly playing.

I am dark in drunken saloons

with no money for more wine.

A Break-up

a paper cut,
a dark night table stubbed toe
-----(the un-funny funny-bone)
a vibrating mosquito,
the reflected eyes of a pink pull-over cop,
a dropped sweet vanilla ice cream cone,
a baby crying plane
-----(trapped on a three-hour fleeing runway)
a dog shit heel step,
locked in keys,
all this, and the loss of my love.

Mom I’m gay…(period.)

To stop bashing rock waves,
Mother went to the African butcher
for the blood of a slaughtered lamb;
and cast red spells over me.
To uproot the steeped in earth,
she paid the Jamaican Obeah woman
for the hair of a virgin gal.
To break the slashing blind tornado,
my comb was given to a Haitian Vodun;
who was immediately possessed
by the god Damballah.
Drums were beaten.
Stones were tossed.
And they all danced by fire,
possessed,
on a dark night beach.

Dad I'm Gay. (period.)

Instead of swinging
his coarse blue-collar fists at me
in antipathy
and tossing my creased Lee jeans
and red Pro-Keds into the
ragged alley behind our
fertile home; on Saturdays
he drove me passed the
pugilistic football fields in
his masculine Cadillac
car, to the tittering
ballet studio where I
learned to tuck my dick
and point my toes, and
sat amongst the proud parents
of girl-children
watching me signify and finger snap.