Poem of the Day
1981
By Asiya Wadud
in a world the orange sun resets
in a world the orange sun resets
If you wanted flesh you had to wait
till second grade, for the box
of 64. Until then you outlined us
in the latter days
you will come to a place
called memphis.
The first time?
So long ago—that brown-eyed boy…
How can I say thi s, your Reverences,
Be ever after merry,
My dear Miss Terriberry:
Enjoy a very very
It was deja vu all over again.
I know this town like the back of my head.
People who live in glass houses are worth two in the bush.
Gesturing toward the master bedroom suite,
"Solid cherry wood!" Mother said grandly.
Two bureaus, two mirrors, four-poster bed,
Morgan saw Athena's face in the crowd
at the Athens International Airport
where the Chaos became a genesis for
Abras, augers, arks and angel wings,
bubbles, bittium,
baby's ears,
I never liked the World Trade Center.
When it went up I talked it down
as did many other New Yorkers.
To see the yellow-bellied sapsucker suck sap,
to watch the oystercatcher at his catch,
and bluebird, woodcock, dickcissel, blue goose,