Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Reclining Now Politely

Concealed by kimono
and barren pinata,
Miss November's
perfect tits (1967)
enjoy gifts from Japan
and Mexico on an unmade bed
of blue.

An unlikely threesome
of bronzed skin,
and hand embroidered silk

I pity
how dull your bedroom
door must be.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009


Humming hymns
as she ironed
I couldn’t decide
if she was
praising God
or performing a service
for the badly
wrinkled shirt
before her.

Thursday, April 9, 2009


An Empty Impression

What could be more insulting
than to have nothing good
or bad to say?

I can say
you are.
I am.
We were.
But how boring is that?


An empty impression is worse than
an empty bed
still holding your depression.

The opposite of epic
Some love is as short
and as shallow
as a sigh.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

PS: Why the hell do you smell like strawberries?

This is
code for
your neck
smelled good
enough to eat,
so I did.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

The Wives of Fela Kuti

Painted faces
articulate identity,
and parent color
to complete
Nigeria's greatest love poem.