ANSWER SWIFTLY

The question you will be called upon
to answer requires careful thought,
but you will be forced to respond.

Would you rather live the rest
of your life in Lilliput or Brobdingnab?

It may seem rather silly, for neither
is likely to occur, but that is not the point
and you cannot avoid responding.

Of course you will have to read
Swift, but you ought to do that anyway
and there, if you pay attention, you

see your own world and your
relationship with it, and you will see
others who look vaguely familiar.

So there you have your midterm exam
denizen of Lilliput or Brobdingnab,
and no, you cannot answer with

“because I’d be a giant among midgets,”
or “because I’d stand out as a midget
in a world where all around me are giants”

because no matter how you choose
you’ll be black in a white world, gay
in a straight one, or a woman in our world.

PERSONIFICATION

The black cat walked by
the patio again today.
He won’t stop and engage
no matter how hard
I try to talk to him.
Some cats are haughty
and this one
clearly isn’t deaf.
Some say it is feral,
but it’s too well
groomed for that.
More likely it has spent
too much time with people.
The sort of arrogance
it shows has only one
source and, though we
hate to admit it, we
know that source all too well.


For Something Different, a new bird photo each day, visit my other blog:
Bird-of-the-day.com 

COLORS

We hunted him as a trophy
stag across his fields.
We called him red man,
color of Ares, gods
sacrificed on our altar.
His rivers run with his spirit.

I am white
bereft of color,
barren, a glare,
a dessert stripped of life.
It is I who wears
Cain’s mark, plucked
from the garden
the sweet taste fades.
My lips are dry.

You are black
an amalgam, green
of the grasses in summer field,
orange of sun
singing an ocean,
surf ablaze, blue
of a crystal sky,
purple of robes
of Nubian kings,
brown of the soil
fertile and yielding.
Your eyes see all.


First published in The Right to Depart, Plainview Press, 2008

INCEPTION

Morning arrived as usual today
and we shook ourselves slowly
from sleep to greet it.
As we rose and drew open
the curtains and blinds
all that morning had to say,
and said rather imperiously
was “where is the coffee —
you can’t expect a damn thing
from me until I’ve had
at least two cups,
and brew them strong and black,
like the night I
chased off to get here.”