I Think I've Been Writing Black Poems

The Body Is A Damn Hard Thing To Kill.

My Life Has Appeared Unclothed In Court, Detail By Detail, Death-bone Witness By Death-bone Witness, And I Was Shamed At The Verdict.

I Grow Old On My Bitterness.

Now I Am Going Back And I Have Ripped My Hand From Your Hand As I Said I Would And I Have Made It This Far.

You Who Have Inhabited Me In The Deepest And Most Broken Place, Are Going, Going