Romella Kitchens Poems
|41.||The Allen Chronicles||10/21/2014|
|43.||The Double Standard: Growing Up In Wilkinsburg, Pa||1/17/2015|
|44.||The Day Of Living Angels||9/30/2014|
|45.||Revolution, Revolution, Revolu -||10/1/2014|
|46.||The Technology Of Love||9/30/2014|
|47.||East St. Louis||8/15/2014|
|48.||What Rusts In The Rain: For The Memory Of William S. Burroughs||2/22/2014|
|49.||The Intimacy Of Isolation||3/7/2014|
|50.||Letter To The Aging||4/21/2014|
|52.||The Boston Marathon 2013||4/17/2013|
|54.||Brown Sugar Babies||6/26/2013|
|56.||La Tombre Sin Nombre||10/15/2013|
|57.||It Is All Etched In Crayola||1/29/2014|
Comments about Romella Kitchens
It is incorrect in a society to have an exile that
solely calls that the brown or black of skin be
left to the side, face expulsion while others kiss
the very palms of Lady Liberty and are deemed
pure by her simply because they are pale. They
stay like blonde children resting passionately
in the folds of her lap, while the red of skin are
returned to the bloody earth, the repulsion as if
salamanders revoked. Criminals and haters should
be disallowed instead of pinpointed skin hues.
A White parakeet with a pink bill, she
was all things feminine...
The birder's books said she should live
for approximately six months...
But, she sang through my love and devoted
care of her for ten years.
Her pink throat, her morning song to a God
She would weep when I left the house.