Friday, June 4, 2010


I was coming out of the movies and I saw a man and a woman, a pregnant woman that is, arguing. At least it looked like they were arguing. More, it looked like she was being argued at. If that makes any sense. I walked slower and slower to the car. I wanted him to know that I knew. What he looked like. The rhythm of his voice. The color of his eyes. White woman, black woman, rich woman, poor woman...

We are bound by moon
Held sticky by our silence
Cries for help of passing sister
With a look
Slow blink
Pursed lip
I know a "girl come hold my tongue 'fo I go to jail" when I see it
We all know

Every threat falls like
Grandmamas good dishes
We know
We always know

We are carrying bigger bags these days
Have you noticed
In our hips
On our backs
In our hair
Behind our eyes

I would think twice before I hit her
If I were you

There are witches you cant see
Born before Voo Doo
More crafty than Rain

If this was just a poem
I would have already told you so

This is an invitation to knowing
We are watching you
We are always watching

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