A Literary Place of Sanctuary from These Trying Times
My nephew and niece,
half-white all-Black,
don’t care about my divided self
my split-at-the-rootness,
Christian blah blah
Jewish blah blah.
White + white is two whites
spooning in a pudding of white.
With all respect to my folks.
Hey, I know Black is not
for sure saintly as most saints
are not for sure saintly.
But for their time on the rack.
Let’s rest this poem on an oven
rack as if it were lamb led
to dinner, a lamb dripping
with blood, connection, and shame.
This poem is heliocentric as
the ego basking in itself.
Nephew and niece, they grow,
as we’re said to in California,
sprouting leaf after shiny leaf
happy as neon or sundrops.
Erin thanked me for the fifty!
Come on. Sing Happy Birthday.
