It is so startling
how precise...
In the roots,
I find my past feeding from the present...
As the sun rises
the faint moon sets...
Heads keep bending down
Fingers move at a rapid pace...
Your hands grabbed the inside of her throat,
suffocation swallowed her eyes...
do you hear voices deep inside of you?
have you met God...
what is it with the waking hour?
words scampering to reach my page...
kinky dinky is about to float a new ship
in the either of my space...
sitting at the table of life
the truth of my blood; my heritage...
there be times I would like to dig up their...
the head of rotter’s row...
The dissemination of bullets seeded the womb of...
the land’s arms opened...
my heart may not have eyes and ears
but that is where I am at...