Some of them of course you talkin to quite reglar is quite irreglar, but dis gurl keeper nose out till it brought right to her door and then on in, till she gotta put herself out say stop, that ain no sistah that some kinda gotta be on top thang… Well see i don’t happen like it on top, i know that makes me old fashioned but there it is, but that don’t mean I don get my choice of who am under, feel me.
Now, beside i got no problem with, go rambling all over the planet ifye want to pointing to hollyhocks an calling em everything under the sun cause my watch is over here an you got a right to set up your reality just full of everything bein whatever else if’n you want, I got no say don’t even want one, knock y’self out, kay?
When you come husslin over to my quiet little patch an point’n to my hollyhocks, though, I do object you standin in my own garden for a half hour stretch screaming about bat guano and beetles, oh, and angels too by the way.
That no sistah.
So I say.
There will be peace between us.
You don’t come rave on my garden, I won’t come rave on yours. You got the whole planet — I got this little peaceful patch and the rest of the universe, ain complainin. Ain looking for no glory, me.
But if it come find me, I say yes.
If you come find me, I still keep peace. I move ova there. It come find me there. You come find me there, I not held back any longer by team member politeness, the noble restraint which I have so far shown. I quit giving you room to spread those crumpled wings and really actually fly. I call you what you is right damn now in front of God/dess an your whole universe, ain a damn thang yew kin dew.
Lack facing a dinosaur, honey. I done paid the price. You don’t have the time or the paid for strength to even want to take that first step.
Don’t do it.
We makepiece. Notha old fashioned sentiment. Waste ye damn time tryin darn it that’s all. Too many holes. Stitches rip right out. So we put this li’l patch on, right?
All of us women together, making this crazy quilt for that fame the men’re strongarming into place out’na yard?
Keep yer needle on your own patch, though. I shouldn’t have to tell you something so simple. Won’t do it again, either.
Just go work onm’own damn quilt, right? Leave you yerown damn karma, no need to lift my littlest finger.
Think twice. Think once. Think at all.
A poet is the strangest sort of soul
You in this life may e'er expect to meet
More broken even while more truly whole,
Innocently intending well, more sweet
Than any but a five year old should be
Unfit to meet a callused world's demand
Or to behave aught expediently
All grace in flight; an albatross on land
Do not the all too common error make
Do not fall into the too easy trap
Avoid the fatal egoic mistake
Imagining that poet be a sap
Powerful spirits classic and antique
Give voice when poets ope their mouths to speak