I spit words of lava, pouring passionately down my neck and to my toes; sealing me to this place where I stand, stuck in this place where I stand and my words are too firey for people to hear yet too gripping for them to look away.
and from a distance they peer not knowing how my words will quickly engulf and obliterate them, tearing up the roots of their society, the homes of families of lovers of friends demolished by my words;
my words so vehement they chase these people out of town and although I cannot budge from this place where I stand, stuck, I will ensue terror upon those who cross my path and I will burn those who rest too close to I.

Tall, frightful, mountainous man
the fear you strike within is easy to explain
sheer size causes my heart to pound
so fast and loud that it is all I can do to contain
it from leaping outside my tiny frame

With whisker twitching and hide flinching
I crept from the safety of my hole, inching
one small step by paltry step
seeking meagre crumbs; mere scraps of food
to feed my hungry brood

And there I chanced upon you
(well, it was your dark and menacing shoe
that first caught my beady little eye)
then, fleetingly, thoughts I was about to die
stopped me in my tracks, and there was I,
wondering ~ should I fight or fly?

Yes, there I stood, frozen in time
and it seemed that you were too
as we, the two of us, both you and I,
for one moment (or was it two?)
took measure and looked each other in the eye

But I am not a silly fool
and though I am just an insignificant being
I have learned a golden rule ~
at the very instant a man moves his feet
it is time I must be fleeing!

Even the stars, they say, and worlds -- but first,
It's April rain, it's light on greening gardens --
One sparrow, yes, in book and branch -- then worse,
All memory of love, the heart that hardens,

Resisting still the news. Seasons, reversed,
All water, always, quick or slow, the snow
On fields, then farmers' woods and crops immersed
By river's-work, and floodplains' overflow.

All leaves, all trees, all earth by wind dispersed;
And men, men too, each falling long-rehearsed.

You look better
When you're smiling
Doors of ivory hide unease

Your smile looks better
When your spiraling
Down down chutes of self appease

And I look better
When you're defiling
All the things that live to please.

It's riskier than you might think
To mention skin as being "pink"
To a girl that's tried to wash away
The hopeless thought of being gray

Orange is such a pleasant tone
On clothes and walls and college dorms
And lamps,
And fruit,
But coating the pigment of someone's arms?
That's okay,
It's not me they're trying to charm


But it's curious...
Why be afraid?
Of the Sun's
"Terrible",
"Damaging",
"Harmful" rays?
But if skin is preferred oily and white
It's not me who judges for a ghostly sight

But I
As a child of the Sun,
As is everyone,
I could run to and from
The beach
And never bleach
Or dye
A piece of me
Because I know it will reach every crease of me and kiss
My skin,
So warm with bliss
And let the embrace
Brush the plains of my face
And over my skin I let it graze
And leave just a taste of summer's glaze.