And I Vote

my senator has speculum hands forceps fingers and a rat bastard hard
on to regulate reproduction and legislate legs
open shut open shut like a woman's supposed to keep her mouth
open shut open slut a hearing
not to hear you but
metoometoometoo

For The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads

Home

It could be the petunias
blooming in blue baskets
hanging
and swaying
from the front porch eaves.

Could be the red dirt
sweetening from the evening's
watering
from the garden hose
dampening down the heat.

Could be coffee brewing
or a hint of her perfume.
Okra frying,
laundry drying -
I don't know.

Could be just my memory
playing kindly tricks on me:
a gift, a generosity.
Something smells like home.

For The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads

Confessions Of A Confessional

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned . . .

Again with the coveting, Gwendolyn?
You're such a naughty girl!
All this longing
for the belongings
of another.

Day after day after day,
I scrub at stains of gray
knowing true black hearts
here
will never enter

Oh, go, Gwendolyn, go!
Go in peace, go with God -
secure
in your purity
and salvation.

Me, I'll be here
with my ready, wooden ear
to hear confessions
of man's lack
of imagination!