Wanda Coleman Poems
- Bedtime Story bed calls. i sit in the dark in the living room...
- In That Other Fantasy Where We...
- American Sonnet (10) after Lowell our mothers wrung hell...
- Mastectomy the fall of velvet plum points and umber ...
- A Stonehold the thief has made me a gift of his night's ...
- American Sonnet (35) boooooooo. spooky ripplings of icy ...
- The Saturday Afternoon Blues Can kill you can fade your life...
Wanda Coleman (birth name, Wanda Evans; November 13, 1946 – November 22, 2013) was an American poet. She was known as "the L.A. Blueswoman," and "the unofficial poet laureate of Los Angeles."
Coleman was born Wanda Evans, and grew up in the Watts neighborhood of Los Angeles during the 1960s. She received fellowships from the John Simon Guggenheim Foundation, The NEA, and the California Arts Council (in fiction and in poetry). She was the first C.O.L.A. literary fellow (Los Angeles Department of Cultural Affairs, 2003). Her numerous honors included an Emmy in Daytime Drama writing, The 1999 Lenore Marshall Prize (for "Bathwater Wine"), and a nomination... more »
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Comments about Wanda Coleman
bed calls. i sit in the dark in the living room
trying to ignore them
in the morning, especially Sunday mornings
it will not let me up. you must sleep
longer, it says
the bed makes me lay heavenward on my back
while i prefer a westerly fetal position
facing the wall
the bed sucks me sideways into it when i
sit down on it to put on my shoes. this
persistence on its part forces me to dress in
the bathroom where things are less subversive
the bed lumps up in anger springs popping out to
scratch my dusky thighs