Elizabeth Alexander Poems
|3.||Ars Poetica #100: I Believe||5/21/2016|
|4.||At the Beach||5/21/2016|
|10.||"The female seer will burn upon this pyre"||5/21/2016|
|11.||Minnesota Fats Describes His Youth||5/21/2016|
|13.||Preliminary Sketches: Philadelphia||5/21/2016|
|14.||Robeson at Rutgers||5/21/2016|
|15.||Stravinsky in L.A.||5/21/2016|
|16.||The Venus Hottentot||5/21/2016|
|18.||Praise Song For The Day||2/26/2014|
I am lazy, the laziest
girl in the world. I sleep during
the day when I want to, 'til
my face is creased and swollen,
'til my lips are dry and hot. I
eat as I please: cookies and milk
after lunch, butter and sour cream
on my baked potato, foods that
slothful people eat, that turn
yellow and opaque beneath the skin.
Sometimes come dinnertime Sunday
I am still in my nightgown, the one
with the lace trim listing because
I have not mended it. Many days
I do not exercise, only
consider it, then rub my curdy
belly and lie down. Even
my poems are ...
Praise Song For The Day
Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other, catching each other's
eyes or not, about to speak or speaking.
All about us is noise. All about us is
noise and bramble, thorn and din, each
one of our ancestors on our tongues.
Someone is stitching up a hem, darning
a hole in a uniform, patching a tire,
repairing the things in need of repair.