It didn’t want your sympathy and had no need
Of affection, the hot breath of your infatuate regard.
A building razed, a jungle come, river run to dust,

When they knew what he had given them,
This florid colossus with the sunrise in his eyes
And skin the color of perfectly ripened fruit,

It makes one all right, though you hadn’t thought of it,
A sound like the sound of the sky on fire, like Armageddon,
Whistling and crackling, the explosions of sunlight booming

Eventually she stayed
with the overflown artery of Ouse
fingering pebbles one at a time two

      Those silly seagulls up in the sky over there remind me of

      A particular local postcard of many seagulls in the sky thatcould go on and on forever were it not for the edges

for angeliQue brathwaite

this living liqurid mmemory
deep tidal embankment under the water
breathes through the sea’s leaves like lamplight

dreams itself a green island lizard
long before you was born
branches of blue into tunes of blue crystal
softness of turQuoise and terrace and moon

Gee, You’re so Beautiful That It’s Starting to Rain

Oh, Marcia,
I Want your long blonde beauty

I teach fourth grade
batik and weave plant hangers
with seashells bound in the yarns,

You see a bright ship
with a flourish of little banners
formed in one single gesture

The river's applause fades 'round the ridge
like a candled freedom snuffed by a junta:

wounded echo. Crumbly shale of ocean