December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

EVICTION by Michelle Clinton.

White men handed papers to my mother
through a cracked door. We had to
get boxes from the liquor store
& watch her get drunk.

Before, just yesterday, my mother
brought home purple heart doilies
& gave us large silver coins
we held tight in our hands
running to catch ice cream bells.

Yesterday she baked macaroons,
she talked to her plants & scrubbed
even the air with her sure, careful
movements.

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

these hips are big hips they need space to move around in. they don't fit into little petty places. these hips are free hips. they don't like to be... HOMAGE TO MY HIPS by Lucille Clifton
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