When a woman opens her door
and refrigerator to strangers
strictly because
of a familiar last name
the last thing you do
is question the rust
resting on her eyelids.
The first time I met Flatbush
she was a thick brick-boned woman
with stone-seasoned hair
sculpted above her head
and a *** of greens
anchored at her waist.
She was a winter day
warmed by a sea of arms
pouring from the jaws
of a crooked screen door.
She wanted nothing more
than to 5 o'clock traffic
drown me in comfort
and comfort food
so I let her.
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 1:22 PM UTC
When a woman opens her door
and refrigerator to strangers
strictly because
of a familiar last name
the last thing you do
is question the rust
resting on her eyelids.
The first time I met Flatbush
she was a thick brick-boned woman
with stone-seasoned hair
sculpted above her head
and a *** of greens
anchored at her waist.
She was a winter day
warmed by a sea of arms
pouring from the jaws
of a crooked screen door.
She wanted nothing more
than to 5 o'clock traffic
drown me in comfort
and comfort food
so I let her.
for Great Aunt Beauty
