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.