Aug 21
Poem (I lived in the first century of world wars) by Muriel Rukeyser I lived in the first century of world wars.Most mornings I would be more or less insane,The newspapers would arrive with their careless stories,The news would pour out of various devicesInterrupted by attempts to sell products to the unseen.I would call my …
Aug 20
This is Not a Small Voice by Sonia Sanchez This is not a small voiceyou hear this is a largevoice coming out of these cities.This is the voice of LaTanya.Kadesha. Shaniqua. Thisis the voice of Antoine.Darryl. Shaquille.Running over watersnavigating the hallwaysof our schools spilling outon the corners of our cities andno epitaphs spill out of …
Aug 19
The Dreamer by Djuna Barnes The night comes down, in ever-darkening shapes that seem— To grope, with eerie fingers for the window—then— To rest to sleep, enfolding me, as in a dream Faith—might I awaken! And drips the rain with seeming sad, insistent beat. Shivering across the pane, drooping tear-wise, And softly patters by, …
Aug 18
Self-Portrait as So Much Potential by Chen Chen Dreaming of one day being as fearless as a mango. As friendly as a tomato. Merciless to chin & shirtfront. Realizing I hate the word “sip.” But that’s all I do. I drink. So slowly. & say I’m tasting it. When I’m just bad at taking in …
Aug 17
A Little Called Pauline by Gertrude Stein A little called anything shows shudders. Come and say what prints all day. A whole few watermelon. There is no pope. No cut in pennies and little dressing and choose wide soles and little spats really little spices. A little lace makes boils. This is not true. Gracious …
