stole land with bribes
& fake deeds? I remember
She was seven & I was five
When she ran up to me like a cat
With a gypsy moth in its mouth
& we played doctor & house
Under the low branches of a raintree
Encircled with red rhododendrons.
We could pull back the leaves
& see grandmama ironing
At their wide window. Once
Her mother moved so close
To the yardman we thought they’d kiss.
What the children of housekeepers
& handymen knew was enough
To stop biological clocks,
& it’s hard now not to walk over
& mention how her grandmother
Killed her idiot son
& salted him down
In a wooden barrel.
Note to ebook edition readers: This poem is presented first as an illustration to show the poet’s intended arrangement of the text, then as the text of the complete left column and the complete right column.
Changes; or, Reveries at a Window Overlooking a Country Road, with Two Women Talking Blues in the Kitchen
Left column
Joe, Gus, Sham …
Even George Edward
Done gone. Done
Gone to Jesus, honey.
Doncha mean the devil,
Mary? Those Johnson boys
Were only sweet talkers
& long, tall bootleggers.
Child, now you can count
The men we usedta know
On one hand. They done
Dropped like mayflies—
Cancer, heart trouble,
Blood pressure, sugar,
You name it, Eva Mae.
Amen. Tell the truth,
Girl. I don’t know.
Maybe the world’s heavy
On their shoulders. Maybe
Too much bed hopping
& skirt chasing
Caught up with them.
God don’t like ugly.
Look at my grandson
In there, just dragged in
From God only knows where,
He high tails it home
Inbetween women troubles.
He’s nice as a new piece
Of silk. It’s a wonder
Women don’t stick to him
Like white on rice.
It’s a fast world
Out there, honey.
They go all kinda ways.
Just buried John Henry
With that old guitar
Cradled in his arms.
Over on Fourth Street
Singing ’bout hell hounds
When he dropped dead.
You heard ’bout Jack
Right? He just tilted over
In prayer meeting.
The good & the bad go
Into the same song.
How’s Hattie? She
Still uppity & half
Trying to be white?
The man went off to war
& got one of his legs
Shot off & she wanted
To divorce him for that.
Crazy as a bessy bug.
Jack wasn’t cold
In his grave before
She done up & gave all
The insurance money
To some young pigeon
Who never hit a lick
At work in his life.
He cleaned her out & left
With Donna Faye’s girl.
Honey, hush. You don’t
Say. Her sister,
Charlene, was silly
Too. Jump into bed
