December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

IN ORANGEBURG MY BROTHERS DID by A. B. Spellman.

In Orangeburg my brothers did the African twist around a bone-fire they’d built at the gate to keep the hunkies out.
The day before they’d caught one shooting up the campus like the white hunter he was.
But a bone-fire? only conjures up the devil.

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Thu, 24.09.2009

WHEN BLACK PEOPLE ARE by A. B. Spellman.

When black people are with each other we sometimes fear ourselves whisper over our shoulders about unmentionable acts & sometimes we fight & lie. these are something’s we sometimes do.

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

A closed window looks down on a dirty courtyard, and black people call across or scream across or walk across defying physics in the stream of their will. Our world... KA ‘BA by Amiri Baraka.
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