But when I start to tell them,
   They think I'm telling lies.
   I say,
   It's in the reach of my arms,
   The span of my hips,
   The stride of my step,
   The curl of my lips.
   I'm a woman
   Phenomenally.
   Phenomenal woman,
   That's me.
   I walk into a room
   Just as cool as you please,
   And to a man,
   The fellows stand or
   Fall down on their knees.
   Then they swarm around me,
   A hive of honey bees.
   I say,
   It's the fire in my eyes,
   And the flash of my teeth,
   The swing in my waist,
   And the joy in my feet.
   I'm a woman
   Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman,
   That's me.
   Men themselves have wondered
   What they see in me.
   They try so much
   But they can't touch
   My inner mystery.
   When I try to show them,
   They say they still can't see.
   I say,
   It's in the arch of my back,
   The sun of my smile,
   The ride of my breasts,
   The grace of my style.
   I'm a woman
   Phenomenally.
   Phenomenal woman,
   That's me.
   Now you understand
   Just why my head's not bowed.
   I don't shout or jump about
   Or have to talk real loud.
   When you see me passing,
   It ought to make you proud.
   I say,
   It's in the click of my heels,
   The bend of my hair,
   the palm of my hand,
   The need for my care.
   ‘Cause I'm a woman
   Phenomenally.
   Phenomenal woman,
   That's me.
   Men
   When I was young, I used to
   Watch behind the curtains
   As men walked up and down
   The street. Wino men, old men.
   Young men sharp as mustard.
   See them. Men are always
   Going somewhere.
   They knew I was there. Fifteen
   Years old and starving for them.
   Under my window, they would pause,
   Their shoulders high like the
   Breasts of a young girl,
   Jacket tails slapping over
   Those behinds,
   Men.
   One day they hold you in the
   Palms of their hands, gentle, as if you
   Were the last raw egg in the world. Then
   They tighten up. Just a little. The
   First squeeze is nice. A quick hug.
   Soft into your defenselessness. A little
   More. The hurt begins. Wrench out a
   Smile that slides around the fear. When the
   Air disappears,
   Your mind pops, exploding fiercely, briefly,
   Like the head of a kitchen match. Shattered.
   It is your juice
   That runs down their legs. Staining their shoes.
   When the earth rights itself again, And taste tries to return to the tongue,
   Your body has slammed shut. Forever.
   No keys exist.
   Then the window draws full upon
   Your mind. There, just beyond
   The sway of curtains, men walk.
   Knowing something.
   Going someplace.
   But this time, you will simply
   Stand and watch.
   Maybe.
   Refusal
   Beloved,
   In what other lives or lands
   Have I known your lips
   Your hands
   Your laughter brave
   Irreverent.
   Those sweet excesses that
   I do adore.
   What surety is there
   That we will meet again,
   On other worlds some
   Future time undated.
   I defy my body's haste.
   Without the Promise
   Of one more sweet encounter
   I will not deign to die.
   Just for a Time
   Oh how you used to walk
   With that insouciant smile
   I liked to hear you talk
   And your style
   Pleased me for a while.
   You were my early love
   New as a day breaking in Spring
   You were the image of
   Everything
   That caused me to sing.
   I don't like reminiscing
   Nostalgia is not my forte
   I don't spill tears
   On yesterday's years
   But honesty makes me say,
   You were a precious pearl
   How I loved to see you shine,
   You were the perfect girl.
   And you were mine.
   For a time.
   For a time.
   Just for a time.
   Junkie Monkey Reel
   Shoulders sag,
   The pull of weighted needling.
   Arms drag, smacking wet in soft bone
   Sockets.
   Knees thaw,
   Their familiar magic lost. Old bend and
   Lock and bend forgot.
   Teeth rock in fetid gums.
   Eyes dart, die, then float in
   Simian juice.
   Brains reel,
   Master charts of old ideas erased. The
   Routes are gone beneath the tracks
   Of desert caravans, pre-slavery
   Years ago.
   Dreams fail,
   Unguarded fears on homeward streets
   Embrace. Throttling in a dark revenge
   Murder is its sweet romance.
   How long will
   This monkey dance?
   The Lesson
   I keep on dying again.
   Veins collapse, opening like the
   Small fists of sleeping
   Children.
   Memory of old tombs,
   Rotting flesh and worms do
   Not convince me against
   The challenge. The years
   And cold defeat live deep in
   Lines along my face.
   They dull my eyes, yet
   I keep on dying,
   Because I love to live.
   California Prodigal
   FOR DAVID P-B
   The eye follows, the land
   Slips upward, creases down, forms
   The gentle buttocks of a young
   Giant. In the nestle,
   Old adobe bricks, washed of
   Whiteness, paled to umber,
   Await another century.
   Star Jasmine and old vines
   Lay claim upon the ghosted land,
   Then quiet pools whisper
   Private childhood secrets.
   Flush on inner cottage walls
   Antiquitous faces,
   Used to the gelid breath
   Of old manors, glare disdainfully
   Over breached time.
   Around and through these
   Cold phantasmatalities,
   He walks, insisting
   To the languid air,
   Activity, music,
   A generosity of graces.
   His lupin fields spurn old
   Deceit and agile poppies dance
   In golden riot. Each day is Fulminant, exploding brightly
   Under the gaze of his exquisite
   Sires, frozen in the famed paint
   Of dead masters. Audacious
   Sunlight casts defiance
   At their feet.
   My Arkansas
   There is a deep brooding
   in Arkansas.
   Old crimes like moss pend
   from poplar trees.
   The sullen ear 
					     					 			th
   is much too
   red for comfort.
   Sunrise seems to hesitate
   and in that second
   lose its
   incandescent aim, and
   dusk no more shadows
   than the noon.
   The past is brighter yet.
   Old hates and
   ante-bellum lace are rent
   but not discarded.
   Today is yet to come
   in Arkansas.
   It writhes. It writhes in awful
   waves of brooding.
   Through the Inner City to the Suburbs
   Secured by sooted windows
   And amazement, it is
   Delicious. Frosting filched
   From a company cake.
   People. Black and fast. Scattered
   Watermelon seeds on
   A summer street. Grinning in
   Ritual, sassy in pomp.
   From a slow-moving train
   They are precious. Stolen gems
   Unsaleable and dear. Those
   Dusky undulations sweat of forest
   Nights, damp dancing, the juicy
   Secrets of black thighs.
   Images framed picture perfect
   Do not move beyond the window
   Siding.
   Strong delectation:
   Dirty stories in changing rooms
   Accompany the slap of wet towels and
   Toilet seats.
   Poli-talk of politician
   Parents: “They need shoes and
   Cooze and a private Warm latrine. I had a colored Mammy …”
   The train, bound for green lawns
   Double garages and sullen women
   In dreaded homes, settles down
   On its habit track.
   Leaving
   The dark figures dancing
   And grinning. Still
   Grinning.
   Lady Luncheon Club
   Her counsel was accepted: the times are grave.
   A man was needed who would make them think,
   And pay him from the petty cash account.
   Our woman checked her golden watch,
   The speaker has a plane to catch.
   Dessert is served (and just in time).
   The lecturer leans, thrusts forth his head
   And neck and chest, arms akimbo
   On the lectern top. He summons up
   Sincerity as one might call a favored
   Pet.
   He understands the female rage,
   Why Eve was lustful and
   Delilah's
   Grim deceit.
   Our woman thinks:
   (This cake is much too sweet).
   He sighs for youthful death
   And rape at ten, and murder of
   The soul stretched over long.
   Our woman notes:
   (This coffee's much too strong). The jobless streets of
   Wine and wandering when
   Mornings promise no bright relief.
   She claps her hands and writes
   Upon her pad: (Next time the
   Speaker must be brief).
   Momma Welfare Roll
   Her arms semaphore fat triangles,
   Pudgy hands bunched on layered hips
   Where bones idle under years of fatback
   And lima beans.
   Her jowls shiver in accusation
   Of crimes clichéd by
   Repetition. Her children, strangers
   To childhood's toys, play
   Best the games of darkened doorways,
   Rooftop tag, and know the slick feel of
   Other people's property.
   Too fat to whore,
   Too mad to work,
   Searches her dreams for the
   Lucky sign and walks bare-handed
   Into a den of bureaucrats for
   Her portion.
   “They don't give me welfare.
   I take it.”
   The Singer Will Not Sing
   FOR A. L.
   A benison given. Unused,
   no angels promised,
   wings fluttering banal lies
   behind their sexlessness. No
   trumpets gloried
   prophecies of fabled fame.
   Yet harmonies waited in
   her stiff throat. New notes
   lay expectant on her
   stilled tongue.
   Her lips are ridged and
   fleshy. Purpled night birds
   snuggled to rest.
   The mouth seamed, voiceless.
   Sounds do not lift beyond
   those reddened walls.
   She came too late and lonely
   to this place.
   Willie
   Willie was a man without fame,
   Hardly anybody knew his name.
   Crippled and limping, always walking lame,
   He said, “I keep on movin’
   Movin’ just the same.”
   Solitude was the climate in his head,
   Emptiness was the partner in his bed,
   Pain echoed in the steps of his tread,
   He said, “I keep on followin’
   Where the leaders led.
   “I may cry and I will die,
   But my spirit is the soul of every spring,
   Watch for me and you will see
   That I'm present in the songs that children sing.”
   People called him “Uncle,” “Boy” and “Hey,”
   Said, “You can't live through this another day.”
   Then, they waited to hear what he would say.
   He said, “I'm living
   In the games that children play.
   “You may enter my sleep, people my dreams,
   Threaten my early morning's ease,
   But I keep comin’ followin’ laughin’ cryin',
   Sure as a summer breeze.
   “Wait for me, watch for me.
   My spirit is the surge of open seas.
   Look for me, ask for me,
   I'm the rustle in the autumn leaves.
   “When the sun rises
   I am the time.
   When the children sing
   I am the Rhyme.”
   To Beat the Child Was Bad Enough
   A young body, light
   As winter sunshine, a new
   Seed's bursting promise,
   Hung from a string of silence
   Above its future.
   (The chance of choice was never known.)
   Hunger, new hands, strange voices,
   Its cry came natural, tearing.
   Water boiled in innocence, gaily
   In a cheap pot.
   The child exchanged its
   Curiosity for terror. The skin
   Withdrew, the flesh submitted.
   Now, cries make shards
   Of broken air, beyond an unremembered
   Hunger and the peace of strange hands.
   A young body floats.
   Silently.
   Woman Work
   I've got the children to tend
   The clothes to mend
   The floor to mop
   The food to shop
   Then the chicken to fry
   The baby to dry
   I got company to feed
   The garden to weed
   I've got the shirts to press
   The tots to dress
   The cane to be cut
   I gotta clean up this hut
   Then see about the sick
   And the cotton to pick.
   Shine on me, sunshine
   Rain on me, rain
   Fall softly, dewdrops
   And cool my brow again.
   Storm, blow me from here
   With your fiercest wind
   Let me float across the sky
   Till I can rest again.
   Fall gently, snowflakes
   Cover me with white
   Cold icy kisses and
   Let me rest tonight. Sun, rain, curving sky
   Mountain, oceans, leaf and 
					     					 			 stone
   Star shine, moon glow
   You're all that I can call my own.
   One More Round
   There ain't no pay beneath the sun
   As sweet as rest when a job's well done.
   I was born to work up to my grave
   But I was not born
   To be a slave.
   One more round
   And let's heave it down,
   One more round
   And let's heave it down.
   Papa drove steel and Momma stood guard,
   I never heard them holler ‘cause the work was hard.
   They were born to work up to their graves
   But they were not born
   To be worked-out slaves.
   One more round
   And let's heave it down,
   One more round
   And let's heave it down.
   Brothers and sisters know the daily grind,
   It was not labor made them lose their minds.
   They were born to work up to their graves
   But they were not born
   To be worked-out slaves.
   One more round
   And let's heave it down,
   One more round
   And let's heave it down.
   And now I'll tell you my Golden Rule,
   I was born to work but I ain't no mule.
   I was born to work up to my grave
   But I was not born
   To be a slave.
   One more round
   And let's heave it down,
   One more round
   And let's heave it down.
   The Traveler
   Byways and bygone
   And lone nights long
   Sun rays and sea waves
   And star and stone
   Manless and friendless
   No cave my home