Explore Poems: Friends & Enemies

late, in aqua and ermine, gardenias
scaling her left sleeve in a spasm of scent,
her gloves white, her…

On someone else’s estate
running through it to avoid
the outdoor wedding there is a grave
in a little copse of trees
so panting  we hide out there

How beautiful to lie down
not to be the dead ones there
whose eye sockets are filled with dirt
nothing...

Death no wild thing
and you a boy,
Max.

One night in your room
(or body)
a forest grew

and the walls
(or cells) became
transparent

because brightness
invites
transparency, I guess.

Then a little boat
to hospital smells.
Doctors called

the forest cancer,
not obscuring leaves.
And you a boy.

You say:
“Why can’t people use the word
courage

instead...

I wish I had hiked the frozen hill tonight 
for reception, called to tell you I had a good time 

hearing the two Somali cab drivers laughing 
near an avalanche of on-sale oranges.  

I played a prince in absolute awe 
as the orchestra soared....

super-cool
ultrablack
a tan/purple
had a beautiful shade.

he had a double-natural
that wd put the sisters to shame.
& his beads were imported sea shells
     (from some blk/country i never heard of)
he was triple-hip.

his tikis were hand carved
out of ivory
& came express from the...

Crip (noun): slang for a disabled person/the whole of
     the disabled community/
a school of thought
Example: “I’m on crip time” 
Meaning: Time bends differently when the universe that is
     my body dictates it 

Crip (noun): a Black gang that originated in...

            its a secrete

            the grls speeching mye hole  /

            inn 2 the lindens  /  wee go out

        & playe footballe  /  verie nashenallie

        how wee leeve a stall  /  piteus

                    wen the grls

                    speech me  /
 
this is how u make a porno   /    ...

It’s a shame this poem’s already been erased when
I go to read it. Like humid air that tugs
at my arm to catch what will fall, is
falling, and falls. What’s up with erasing? Glue,
scissors, and yarn make a shadow of barbed
wire....

I don’t know why
most mexicans in my hood
wore nike cortez’s–
why the breakers in my crew
polished ‘em daily,
as if a little spit could
salvage our childhoods–
why we all know cortez’s are best
for c-walking, gang shit,
sick moves thrust
upon an opponent’s pride–
why we thought
by...

The brutality of those two men
                                                 who broke into her apartment
and murdered her boyfriend,
       ...

He and I sought together,
over the spattered table,
rhymes and flowers,
gifts for a name.

He said, among others,
I will bring
(and the phrase was just and good,
but not as good as mine,)
"the narcissus that loves the rain."

We strove for a name,
while the light of...

In this life, there are stars
and there are stunt doubles.

Before I became one of those fathers
obsessed with memorizing his lines,
making peace with the Big Director
in the sky who doesn’t like ad libs,
before all that, I was the star
of my own...

                                                            Hunger like her mama
                                                            Most strong in White gaze as in
                                                            a Cowbird’s flirtation
                                                            Sprouted in eyes to tongues
                                                            to bellies pregnant with stolen milk
                                                            to restless hands
                                                            These fingernails filled with Black body,

Some are transformed just once
And live their whole lives after in that shape.
Others have a facility
For changing themselves as they please.

So I lean back & Redford asks, “Water warm enough?”
& I don’t answer because I’m holding my breath.
I don't know why he asks.
He never uses the faucet to shampoo my afro—just an old clay jar.
Redford fills the jar at the...

1.
La cogida y la muerte

A las cinco de la tarde.
Eran las cinco en punto de la tarde.
Un niño trajo la blanca sábana
a las cinco de la tarde.
Una espuerta de cal ya prevenida
a las cinco de la tarde.
Lo demás era muerte...

1

The Goring and the Death

At five in the afternoon
At the stroke of five
The boy brought the white sheet
at five o’clock
A basket of lime all ready
at five o’clock
The rest was death and only death
at five o’clock

Wind carried off the cotton balls
at...

In the hiding
hour of autophagy
ghosts hang out all day and talk to us.
An archival haunting demanding tribute:
     half a lime for breakfast every day.
بشرٌ يئنّونَ من الألمِ
human voices keening in pain
تُشعلُ أجسادَهُمَ النارُ
their bodies, consumed by fire
light up the...

you know I ain’t mess w/you ’cause of yo’ friends
wouldn’t have you caught slummin’
know you hood 'cause you said

I look the same
and I said
you look the same

and I said “it don’t crack, doit?
and you said “Uh, OKAY?”

that’s that thing right...

“Anyway, it isn’t forever,” Chris said,
“eventually you’re dead.” And we laughed

Besides, everything is better now. Not us
but implants, blenders, children, heart attacks.
There’s never been a better time to be alive
than when you are. If you are. Black-throated
blue warbler says chewchewchewchewchewww
drawing...