Jack-O-Lantern

The prince is hollowed-
like a gourd.
Memories rattling
about like seeds.
The eyes seem vacant
yet dimly glows
a candle, a flicker
of need.

Who

I'm not melting
and I ain't movin' up
who I am is indian
red skin
flint-knap feeling sinew
and the rhythm within
which makes me blink
which makes me black
light skin
quarter-nappy hair
and "fight the power" within
to at last be free
so listen to me
this is who I be.

sister 3

Spirit of '76

These stripes
seem less sharp
than when I was a cork
floating
on that slow, red current...
These stars
blink less brilliant
less wise
grunting unintelligibly
bearing their loads
while I taste the air
for the next vacant herd
of swine...
Why?
because I
am American
Legion
and it is Christian Day
at Six Flags.

First appeared in "The HazMat Review," Vol. 3, Issue 1, Spring/Summer 1998

Hate to Leave

Unction

Remembered impulse-
instinctual
child-like obedience
to tilt the head
and swallow
when thunder calls.

First published in "The Oak," April 1997

Know Like I Do

Yes
Can you...?
Can I...?
Now I'm fine
and I hear love
and feel you in my
wrists...
Do you know?
I do.