harriet

drops out of its box squallinginto the light. they are both squalling,animal and cage. her bars lie wet, openand empty and she has made herself againout of flesh out of dictionaries,she is always emptying and it is allthe same wound the same blood the same breaking.

authority and how it always insistedon itself, how it was masterof the man, how it measured him, neverwas ignored or denied, and how it promisedthere would be sweetness if it was obeyedjust like the saints do, like the angelsand i opened the window and held out myuncupped hand; i swear to godi thought it could…

into the street one sunday morning.i was ten. i had never seena human woman hurl her basketballof a body into the traffic of the world.Praise to the drivers who stopped in time.Praise to the faith with which she roseafter some moments then slowly walkedsighing back to her family.Praise to the arms which understoodlittle or nothing…

thinking of everything but kinship.collards and kalestrain against each strange otheraway from my kissmaking hand andthe iron bedpot.the pot is black.the cutting board is black,my hand,and just for a minutethe greens roll black under the knife,and the kitchen twists dark on its spineand i taste in my natural appetitethe bond of live things everywhere.

Sonia Sanchezbrothers,this big womancarries much sweetnessin the folds of her flesh.her hairis white with wonderful.she isrounder than the moonand far more faithful.brothers,who will hold her,who will find her beautifulif you do not?

summoned me out roundheaded and unsmiling.is this the moon, my father used to grin.cradling me? it was the moonbut nobody knew it then.the moon understands dark places.the moon has secrets of her own.she holds what light she can.we girls were ten years old and gigglingin our hand-me-downs. we wanted breasts,pretended that we had them, tissuedour…