if your complexion is a mess our elixir spells skin success you'll have appeal bewitch be adored hechizando con crema dermoblanqueadora what we sell is enlightenment nothing less than beauty itself since when can be seen in the dark what shines hidden in dirt double dutch darky take kisses back to Africa they dipped you in a vat at the wacky chocolate factory color we've got in spades melanin gives perpetual shade through rhythm's no answer to cancer pancakes pale and butter can get rancid
From Muse & Drudge, page 34, by Harryette Mullen, published by Singing Horse Press. Copyright © 1995 by Harryette Mullen. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
sun goes on shining while the debbil beats his wife blues played lefthanded topsy-turvy inside out under the weather down by the sea a broke johnny walker mister meaner bigger than a big man cirrus as a heart attracts more power than a loco motive think your shit don't stink edge against a wall wearing your colors soulfully worn out stylishly distressed
From Muse & Drudge, page 5, by Harryette Mullen, published by Singing Horse Press. Copyright © 1995 by Harryette Mullen. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Awakened too early on Saturday morning by the song of a mockingbird imitating my clock radio alarm. * Walking along the green path with buds in my ears, too engrossed in the morning news to listen to the stillness of the garden.
Copyright © 2012 by Harryette Mullen. Used with permission of the author.
The botanical garden is just as I remember,
although it is certain that everything
has changed since my last visit.
How many hilarious questions these fuzzy
fiddleheads are inquiring of spring
will be answered as green ferns unfurl?
Walking the path, I stop to pick up
bleached bark from a tree, curled into
a scroll of ancient wisdom I am unable to read.
Even in my dreams I’m hiking
these mountain trails expecting to find a rock
that nature has shaped to remind me of a heart.
Copyright @ 2014 by Harryette Mullen. Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-a-Day on May 12, 2014.
The botanical garden is just as I remember,
although it is certain that everything
has changed since my last visit.
How many hilarious questions these fuzzy
fiddleheads are inquiring of spring
will be answered as green ferns unfurl?
Walking the path, I stop to pick up
bleached bark from a tree, curled into
a scroll of ancient wisdom I am unable to read.
Even in my dreams I’m hiking
these mountain trails expecting to find a rock
that nature has shaped to remind me of a heart.
Copyright @ 2014 by Harryette Mullen. Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-a-Day on May 12, 2014.