Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!
who am i thinkin of
(for beverly)
when i write i think of my friends
the people of my visions
but how cd i presume to think of men
who leave so little behind i find them
in my wash cloth in the dirty dishes
by my unmade bed
when i write i erase these dark halls
lone subway stops the car followin
too closely how cd i presume
to address my self
to men
they leave so little behind
& still i dont remember.
once a poet
delivered valentino
on a tie-dyed sheet w/
tequila passion
the sheik gallopin a desert for me
another sketched me
in the midst of bougainvillea
another saturated my basement with painted skeletons
long ago a poet
telephoned from ny
to have breakfast
in seattle
i've waded in hidden creeks
with the men i remember
the others had no sense of humor
Written by Ntozake Shange (1914-2018)
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