i want to wake up
in the tiny jar of sugar
back in the dusty corner
of a wooden cabinet
at a nice pizza place
i want to be added to a bowl of oats
when someone needs an extra spoonful
i want to taste sweet and just right

I am from my grandmother,who snuck out of the house to smoke camel non-filtered

I am from the middle of nowhere, not far from town.

I am from the pine tree with a water hose tied on it, where I imagined  I was Indiana Jones.

I am from the woods, where the cicadas sang at night.

I am from the kudzu that blanketed the trees and menaced the garden.

I am from the apple trees in the front yard, whose fruit                         never turned red.

I am from the middle of nowhere, not far from town.

I am from my grandfather’s plaid pockets, where he would pull out                     suckers.

I am from my father’s mustang that i crashed into the driveway.

I am from my great-grandfather’s picture, proudly displayed on the              wooden mantle.

I am from my grandmother’s bible stories, in the back bedroom where she read every night.

I am from the middle of nowhere, not far from town.

I am from Highway 494, where the trees were leveled to build subdivisions.

I am from the soft red clay and moist brown earth of the backyard.

I am from the moonlight I could see from the top of my house late at night.

I am from the sweltering heat and uncut grass in the front yard.

I am from the middle of nowhere, not far from town.

I am from the small cemetary past the corner store, where my grandfather      lies next to my grandmother,

and my father next to her.

I am from Uptown New Orleans, where my daughter learns her A.B.C’s in the back bedroom

where she prays every night

I am from the brown bag from the Shell station that i fill with suckers, and sneak to her when her mom isn’t watching.

I am from the picture of us dancing at a music festival, her on my shoulders, displayed proudly on the wooden mantle.

I am not from from anywhere, in the middle of town

good night
my dear poet.

you stream so well
and strong inside me.

that I've searched
for a
new homeland;
to declare
a country for words
you've been settling down.

Look up from grey, your stony walls,
Break with the sun, seasides beyond,
Even dreams can come true my heart,
Take one step into the song of the lark.

If I should stay, Cuillin Hills will weep,
End up bleating with black faced sheep,
Stoic on cairns, froze giant of Callanish,
Or gutted in harbour like some cuttlefish.

My mind is mournful, keens with winds,
O what choral fantasias we both'll sing,
Hymns north, west, south, easter terrain,
Thoughts' forsake, points the wind vane.

A fine stout dinghy awaits pure ravel,
My sorrows a mend upon that voyage,
Into the west, moon hid from maid sun,
Aye, ginger haired wrangler tae horizons.

I could look at you
For a single minute
And
Find a thousand things
That I love about you

Let's go on an adventure
Just you and I
Some place new
Where we've never been
Before
I wouldn't mind
Getting lost
With you

tried to buy a little of  it
a new brain and new shoes
thought the name had meaning, like Good humor stood for
good treats my mamma never had a dollar for,
placed , after selecting a two dollar pair of Adidas and a fifty cents  pair of socks
on the counter, and a brain with street sense common, the
( tatooed brown girl, kinda hot)
smiling, chuckled when I tried to pay with my food stamps.

Where as I was serious she thought I was kidding as she said we don't take EBT's and I asked can I get you next week.
meaning, innocently , the balance.

She did give me her number,
but no credit. I walked out empty headed , handed,
skipping with a 555 ou812 written on my forehead.

The way that one
Piece of hair
Falls on your forehead
When you don't have enough wax
In your hair
The way you straighten it
Everyday
Because you hate the curls
That I like
The way you get cold so easy
So you sit a little closer to me
Feel my warmth
Put your hand on my knee
Or on my arm
Your icy fingertips
Burning my skin
How you always hold
Onto my hand
Longer than you should
When you shake my hand
Or hi five me
And bend your fingers over
To hold my hand in yours
The way your eyes light up
When you laugh
Or smile at me
As I wake up
From sleeping in class
The way we both are drawn
To a stray cat
Walking down the pathway home
The way you grab my arm
Or put your hand on my knee
And ask if I'm okay
When I'm on the verge of tears
And tell me it's all going to be fine
When I get scared
And you put your arm around me
And run with me in your arms
Away from what we fear
The way you pull me off the road
So I don't get hit
The way your hand is pressed
Firmly on my back
Getting me away
From any bad situation
The way you care for me
My safety
My health
My feelings
Way more than I do myself
I don't really understand why
But oh how I'm grateful
You were that person
I always prayed for
That God would send me
Someone I could count on
Someone to protect me
Care for me
Understand me and my ways
And make me happy again