trash the tags
night likes
the feel of flowers
my book is done
read on, read on
annihilate my cave
like any woman can
everything open
knees. eyes, lips.
my bones vanish
a dying art

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dame in a red dress

I could be anyone in a red dress walking into Clark’s. Anyone in a ripped, red, satin dress walking up to the bartender without looking at him; hearing him mutter, ‘that’s original’ when I order my whiskey neat. I chase it with the Schlitz he slides in front of me, and finally look up at him and then past him to the reflection in the bar mirror after two more. They don’t see me. I am just part of the furniture here, where dames in red dresses get a raw deal seven nights a week. We get tiresome, I know. But, give me time. I might grow on you.

the wind is changing again

all of our spring and summer
went wild with autumn
then froze solid
each tender caress replaced
with slaps and words tossed askew
seasonally mad

each private spot I showed you
in a weak moment, is
now vulnerable to windy storms
and harsh words
like a little girl eyes up
(please be kind)

it is a matter of time, before
that girl will recall her strength
close the door forever
that allowed you in, and
let inside
the wind and weather

Shadow girl

Yesterday I sat alone
in the purple splendor
of that valley

Nothing remained of my dream
of your laughter, and
your dancing blue anklets

I hear what music swells
kisses of salt and rose in your wake
because of the seasons

Lead me into thy healing
being too reconciled
to earth–grief–and wine

To make one old before his time
whisper, O my ghost
my wandering maid

Supple limbs
with dark breasts
and eyes flashing

in the primal breath
give me one song
before your wild eyes fade

it was

just cause for the big cry I had
waterfalls of injustices
(for an hour)
until it was out of my system
and raining red over the day
that which we never talk about

(the elephant in the room)
the cycle of the month that
runs ragged my psyche
(and my mate)
shall we not be ashamed
to speak of anything
that needs be said

shall we not care what others think
if we voted with our conscience
if that is unpopular
(and that is why we are still here)
waving a flag and joyously
telling you all of this

that a lady is still a lady
no matter what is said
(whatever the opinion)
there are dreams and fancies
that must not be ignored
and not until every dream is fulfilled
should we be quiet

devotion

I visited an old friend
and I said, ‘where is your husband,’
she said, ‘he is having a mid-life crisis, and
his penis is in the garage.’
I opened the garage door and saw a cherry red convertible
Ford Mustang
and had to laugh
I knew
that he did not keep it in his pants
but I wasn’t expecting to find it there
taking her place. I think
she liked when he was poor and in need
of cash, driving a beat up Chevy he hated
because he was always home
and always devoted

Money

You looked into my eyes
and called them money
took me trippin’
over rocky-bumpy-
dangerous waters
and made me jitterbug
in the waves

You tasted my pie
and said that’s money
you said no one ever
ever would replace
what had opened
your eyes wide
what you said-they said
you said a woman
could never do for you

Okay so I can cook
and I know how to work
dem eyes but baby
I am trippin’ on the cash
drowning in that coin
trying to get to my throne
lost its luster
chaos in the court when
they make it something

make me trip for you-
trip for me-
trip so hard it’s chaotic-
contagious-
comeuppance-
comeuphere-
what you call money
might just have
a high exchange rate

but you keep at it sweet
keep it hot
and drink it neat
and look at these eyes
they are darker than yours
and the exchange is pointless
if you won’t look and show
and tell them
you were wrong

that some girl-
someone-
something’s trippin’ your
trick wire, and a woman
could really do that
for you

if she’s money

When I watch

stockings

I love watching

you put on your stockings

The way your nails skim over them without snagging is a marvel

When I watch you, I turn sideways

could you change my
preference-

I guess you know.

don’t you.

That is why you don’t stop when he leaves.

I like when you turn your head to look back, saying things like

your hands
your mouth
your toes

then laugh

Amber (caution)

She came with a set of luggage
3 pieces and a train-case
a Barbie doll, with
all the accessories

Lovely lady with the trimmings
winter holidays
wrapped up in a bow
for that touch
of ostentatious-ness

Every night (every day)
the sound of an alto sax
followed us down dim streets
my hand in the hollow
of her lower back

Squinting to make out the signs
the words (indistinct)
but then (she said)
I really did not try very hard
to read them

My eyes boring into hers
when she would turn her head
waiting for them to light up
like a cat’s
each time a car drove by