Sunday, December 05, 2010

"woman with small ankles" (poem)

"woman with small ankles 
kneading wheat-gluten" 
- 18x11
historical fiction & mythology on poster board
2010 - sold!
(for crystal)

ah, if only i knew with highest surety
that a son of osiris had created jazz, then
i could claim your stance the world's most
elegant musical composition. or if sun ra
had turned ascension into t-shirts
i would silkscreen you across the bluegrass.
i'd be an advocate. your acolyte seeing
your dark face in the bark of white poplars,
be the first man in a line a block long / a throng
of worshipers and well-wishers come to lay
offerings at your roots, sing songs of your grace.
if you are ceo of unseen beauty then consider me
an intern. your initiate. initialize the program of me.
i'm already chief-squatter in charge of
your crawlspaces. i am damp. covered in dew
and your mosses. i draw the celestial heavens
in your soot and seitan droppings...
i paint you in coal and cornbread on canvas,
draw you in coal and water colors on the sidewalk
for the daughters-of-zora to hopscotch on.
you are my creator and i collage you, your distracting
visage hangs in my hallowed halls, your facebook
avatar is framed in glass on my temple walls;
this aesthetic of you lining the shadows of my life
like pedro bell's signature art style on a pfunk
album cover; your country smile my hardcore jolly.

and i love you.
i love you more.

you are my ideal for an abstract africana;
my prototype for an african space program
in payless heels / a sande priestess storing
the nile delta in a goodwill purse - i orbit all of you.
you give good gravity (and your meatless gravies
are also good!) my language crawls into your lap;
you are not my mama. you are my motherboard.
i offer you cupboards, this canvas-me the pantry
for your absolute womanhood.


  1. I've never commented on a blog before, but Daddy, know that I love, love, love this! And I love your blogs....and oh yeah, I love you too!

    Your Daughter:)

  2. you just got an upgrade to your christmas present!

  3. A poem for breakfast for me to cry to. I love you. You are shining black genius...golden.