Category: Poetry

Seeing the pomegranate tree / I thought of you again…

o my snowy valentines scatter in drifts across Chicago, eight inches thick…

We went then, you and I
to the warehouses spread out beneath the sky…

On a journey
long, long, ago
Afrofuturism was long-sought…

transmission from the Sonic Resisters, voice unknown/What i am is fugitive…

Braced against skyscraper, he clawed at webs of malty stars…

It’s a common enough thing,
a quarter, a fortune…

Your grimace is the pathos that belies your claw, ready to strike…

The radioactive waste
my home sleeps on…

I left pieces of myself buried among the words.

The old satellite dish
  technology’s word made whole
in mute obsolescence stands
  motor frozen…