GOD BLESSED SUNDAY: DUSTY WELL
I gave up my office for a warm
meal from another pot, cooked outside
my hands
lain low like empty spoons
that can’t hunt for me
I treated my gown
like
a
black
nosecloth
starving
my birthright
to aspirate my dreams
dress ‘em up in shoes
heel
all
too
glued
to
a
beaten
song
sung
serenade.