I read poetry in Philly
for the first time ever.
...
Condoleezza rises at four,
stepping on the treadmill.
Her long fingers brace the two slim handles
...
We were a Colored Clan of Kinfolk
Who threw soil not salt
Over our shoulders
...
(for E)
I stop my hand midair.
If I touch her there everything about me will be true.
The New World discovered without pick or ax.
...
I want to tell you, ladies and gentlemen, there's not enough
troops in the army to force the southern people to break
down segregation and accept the Negro [pronounced Nigra]
...
The woman with cheerleading legs
has been left for dead. She hot paces a roof,
...
Sundown, the day nearly eaten away,
the Boxcar Willies peep. Their
inside-eyes push black and plump
...
Just a plain brown paper sack boy
from a place and people
who sweet fed him everything in double doses
...