during the ceremony, of course
she was late, swollen with admiration
and witnessing the genetic mass
thrown, barreling towards the future,
my childs was not fair, "the memory-
frozen image," she wore makeup and
a long black weave to match the sexy
black dress...my child is an adult.
the realization so peculiar, it's easier
to accept a twenty-five old woman,
holding gladiolas and taking pictures,
I must tell you, prayers are answered.
from Abandon Automobile: Detroit City Poetry 2001 edited by Melba Joyce Boyd and M.L. Liebler. Earlier this week I wrote a piece for Weekly Geeks. We were to give the reader a literary tour of our hometown. There is so much I love about my city. We are teeming with artists, and I have a particular affinity for our poets. Read more selections at Susan Taylor Brown's.