Hit Title Date Added
Ode To The Walking Woman
Sit -
you must be tired
of walking,
of losing yourself
The Day We Went To The Sea
The day we went to the sea
mothers in Madras were mining
the Marina for missing children.
Another Man's Woman
If we’d lived in another age,
I’d have been the kind of woman
who refused to cast down her eyes.
The kind of woman
Immigrant's Song
Let us not speak of those days
when coffee beans filled the morning
with hope, when our mothers’ headscarves
hung like white flags on washing lines.
What The Body Knows
The body dances in a darkened room
Turning itself inside out
So that skin can face the light in fractures,
Slip like shadow through skeleton walls,
The Art of Losing
It begins with the death
of the childhood pet -
the dog who refuses to eat
for days, the bird or fish
Ode To Drowning
This is an ode
to be sung
in the latest hour of night
Open Hands
In Nairobi, an albino boy followed me everywhere
Peering at me from behind cupboards and trees,
Chortling with glee: Hello fine!
Here is space. Here is space
The Affair
These days men on curbs are curved
Like farm tools or bits of wire,
Like unruly saucers of tea flung
Into the trees, the walls, the breeze.
Turning Into Men Again
This morning men are returning to the world,
Waiting on the sides of blackened pavements
For a rickshaw to carry them away
On the sharp pins and soles of their dancing feet.

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4/21/2021 6:50:30 AM #