Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Return of the Prodigal

Guess whose back? Yours truly, after a half year of being away. I actually wrote a few poems and thought I would post one here and see if anyone is still reading. Lot's of stuff happened, but i still didn't post the Audre Lorde piece, Bad Poet! The Steelers did win the Super Bowl tho, HOOOOO and i got to watch it with my son, tre cool or something like that. Anyway here's the piece

Why I’m Alone this Valentine’s Day

Last week,
as I sipped a mug of tea
in your tiny sparse kitchen.
You pulled back your freshly twisted locks
and asked me why I love Earl Grey so much,
and what it might take
for me to love you as much.
I thought of standing downwind from
Latricia Johnson’s house
when her mother used to sit her on their front porch
and comb ruler straight parts into her caramel scalp
then dip two French manicured fingers
into that aquamarine, bubble-filled jar
with the distinctive smell.
How one Friday night at a quarter party at the rec
Behind the basketball court with the broken rims
I summoned up enough courage to ask the prettiest girl
In our projects for a dance.
For the life of me after all these years
I still can’t figure out
why she said yes
Knowing full well that I had less rhythm
than a grandfather clock with a broken pendulum.
Bobby DeBarge’s Everest high tenor
Spiraled out of the component set in the corner
And even if the stern hand of Alzheimer’s
One day washes the chalkboard of my memory
Clean as the first day of school,
I’ll never forget the bow in the strings
Of her yellow halter top or
the back pocket of her Chic jeans
Sliding across my shocked palms
As we shuffled awkwardly to the first verse of
‘I Call Your Name.’
How I asked her if she wanted to "switch"
dance partners and she didn’t get the joke,
but my nose was too deep
in her bergamot scented tresses
to even notice.

After savoring the last drop
I turned to you, and said
“The right hair grease.”

Not sure about the tense of the last three lines, but we'll see.
Post a Comment