New Poem
OK, so this poem isn't new for all you Arm folks, but whatever. Here's the poem I read at the library tonight.
Promise
Liver spots ain’t beauty marks.
Lord knows, I ain’t seen beauty since before the trees got fat-
Before my belly, thighs-self-got fat. We both got rings,
Me an’ the trees. Theirs are thick, gnarly-like, wart-covered. Strong.
Mine’re tarnished gold. One for promise, one for execution.
Shit-stained housecoats ain’t silk negligees, boy, don’t I know it.
But I ain’t got no man to reign in, save the one rotted away these ten years past.
Never had no black to wear-no grief to paint up my face with, an’ if I did,
Don’t mean he’s any less gone, gone, gone to the maggoties eatin ‘im up.
My arms ain’t missin’ the bruises-boy, ain’t missin’ the scars.
An’ my ears, they ain’t missin’ the hollerin an’ a cussin’, boy, I’ll tell you what.
I ain’t one for celebratin’, ain’t one for crackin’ no grins,
But Loki, Loki laughs on my faded ole couch, and me?
Well, I ain’t afraid to join in.
Promise
Liver spots ain’t beauty marks.
Lord knows, I ain’t seen beauty since before the trees got fat-
Before my belly, thighs-self-got fat. We both got rings,
Me an’ the trees. Theirs are thick, gnarly-like, wart-covered. Strong.
Mine’re tarnished gold. One for promise, one for execution.
Shit-stained housecoats ain’t silk negligees, boy, don’t I know it.
But I ain’t got no man to reign in, save the one rotted away these ten years past.
Never had no black to wear-no grief to paint up my face with, an’ if I did,
Don’t mean he’s any less gone, gone, gone to the maggoties eatin ‘im up.
My arms ain’t missin’ the bruises-boy, ain’t missin’ the scars.
An’ my ears, they ain’t missin’ the hollerin an’ a cussin’, boy, I’ll tell you what.
I ain’t one for celebratin’, ain’t one for crackin’ no grins,
But Loki, Loki laughs on my faded ole couch, and me?
Well, I ain’t afraid to join in.