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Black Ode

 

Your beauty is a thunder
And I am set a wandering—a wandering
Deafened
Down twilight tin-can alleys
And moist sounds
“OOo wee, Baby, look what you could get if your name
   was Willie”
Oh, to dip your words like snuff.

A laughter, black and streaming
And I am come a being—a being
Rounded
Up Baptist aisles, so moaning
And moist sounds
“Bless her heart. Take your bed and walk.
You been heavy burdened”
Oh, to lick your love like tears.

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