we were never caught
we partied the southwest, smoked it from L.A. to El Dorado
worked odd jobs between delusions of escape
...
boooooooo. spooky ripplings of icy waves. this
umpteenth time she returns--this invisible woman
long on haunting short on ectoplasm
...
the thief has made me a gift of his night's booty
somewhere, a daughter discovers her mother's coral
brooch missing, somewhere, a man recoils at the absence
...
Can kill you
can fade your life away
friends are all out shopping
...
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 for the 2001 National Book Awards (for "Mercurochrome"). She was a finalist for California poet laureate (2005). While critically acclaimed for her creative writing, Coleman's greatest notoriety came as a result of an unfavorable review she wrote in the April 14, 2002 edition of The Los Angeles Times Book Review of Maya Angelou's book, A Song Flung Up to Heaven. Coleman found the book to be "small and inauthentic, without ideas wisdom or vision". There was a huge outpouring some positive and much negative, which resulted in Coleman's invitation to certain events being cancelled. Her account of this incident appeared as an essay in the August 29, 2002 edition of The Nation.)
Mastectomy
the fall of
velvet plum points and umber aureolae
remember living
forget cool evening air kisses the rush of
liberation freed from the brassiere
forget the cupping of his hands the pleasure
his eyes looking down/anticipating
forget his mouth. his tongue at the nipples
his intense hungry nursing
forget sensations which begin either
on the right or the left. go thru the body
linger between thighs
forget the space once grasped during his ecstasy
sweet sweet mama you taste so