Dream, Technidifficult

After Martin Luther King, Jr. and P-Funk

I want you to follow me through here
              So wide

They said don’t come there
                             You can’t get around it
But I am here
              So high

They said there is no here
                             You can’t get over it
But I have been there
               So low


You can’t get under it

               I may not get here
Our only guide,

             But look there
the groove
                           Here you are

Dark-sky Society

Each time, Kenny says
With Love,

I look at you, I see
          Princess      Diana

His skin ginger,
          mine, peony,

And, between us now,

          The color line,

No static beam

—More like


The     star-

Our lumen-

Ways to Be White in a Poem

Tension makes
a form resound

and so the many lines I am told
not to cross

Do not go out alone at night
Do not call attention to yourself

Closer to the color line
the more I am
            White girl


It is a while before
the other girls

correct me, gently. Good timbre needs
more air
          Shout out!

Muscles flex, quick-shift
          I stomp, impious

impervious, now

Do not dance suggestively
Hold a stranger’s eyes

That first day in the gym
I asked the row

                        Could I
about cheers

elbows sharp, foregrounded

                   feet, cloud-
Never of
                         A cheer

                        as the body
                        went up

As if I were.        Were not

             Branch creaking
Rope taut

And, maybe you, too—
whoever you are—reading this


Do not touch
Or eat

Their food
Do not drink

From the same cup