Evie Shockley Poems
|1.||A Background In Music||10/23/2014|
|3.||du bois in ghana||6/22/2015|
|4.||canvas and mirror||6/22/2015|
|7.||Waiting On The Mayflower||10/23/2014|
|8.||On New Year's Eve||10/23/2014|
|9.||Effect Shrewd Preferences||10/23/2014|
|10.||Where You Are Planted||10/23/2014|
|11.||Pantoum: Landing, 1976||10/23/2014|
|12.||From The Lost Letters Of Frederick Douglass||10/23/2014|
|13.||Her Tin Skin||10/23/2014|
|14.||Notes To My Nieces (Or, Essays In Fortune-Telling )||10/23/2014|
|15.||A Sonnet For Stanley Tookie Williams||10/23/2014|
|16.||Playing With Fire||10/23/2014|
|17.||— Shall Become As —||10/23/2014|
|18.||Statistical Haiku (Or, How Do They Discount Us? Let Me Count The Ways)||10/23/2014|
|19.||Where Is It Clean||1/1/2004|
i cop a squat on a squared-off log,
to watch you ball on the community center court.
butt numb, i shift my weight
and shake mosquitos from my ankles,
but never take my eyes off the game.
yours follow the orange orb, your pupils
twin, brown moons reflecting its light.
your play is wild efficiency,
you are a four-pronged magic wand,
waving, as if agentless, in all directions at once.
an opponent dribbles the ball - now he sees it,
now he don't, it's gone, flown,
and you've given it its wings.
you are one-eighth of the shrieking ...
Playing With Fire
something is always burning, passion,
pride, envy, desire, the internal organs
going chokingly up in smoke, as some-
thing outside the body exerts a pull
that drags us like a match across sand-
paper. something is always burning,
london, paris, detroit, l.a., the neighbor-
hoods no one outside seems to see until