Mt. Zion Baptist (audio only)
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These things collect,
my nervous system
ringing sounds of a too busy brain,
hollow silences from Africa to here, across
water slapping up the bay to where the capitol
was set in stone now being ground into sand.
A bird finds the nest inside me, flutters
into the solar plexus, and I think of the sun,
fire and hearts, what lives inside the character
2026
for Renee Nicole Good
1988–2026
The fall is the crashing, a sudden brightness,
call it a snapping twig on a broken tree,
call it the never fulfilled promises of freedom
of returning what was stolen.
2026
If he hits the curve before you do, all is lost
is all I remember when the coach yelled out
to start, to kick it down the short straightaway
into the curve, the curve a devil’s handiwork,
with Worsenski ahead of me, two hundred sixty
pounds, one hundred pounds more than me,
2016