Sunday, August 26, 2018

Black Charisma

He saunders
strolls between rough and regal
seersuckered but not a sucker
unless his lips are
behind my ear

speaking something like conscious objection
and poetry
multisyllables of masculine magnitude
not married to the game
just thinking

about why marriage has merit
and why I melt
into his cadence
his misogynoir
his ironic

pursuits of politics and polygamy
having me hold his place
folded over my arm
fresh pressed
placid, and paid for

with a bite of sleeping beauty's apple
Blaming Eve, me
for GMO seed, systemic injustice
and front lining my body
for us

gathering in open spaces
parading past each other
like distant cousins
at the family reunion
and call it community

No comments:

Post a Comment