Ancient Tuesday Wisdom

Today I will walk down the block with my shoes untied and my

Hair hanging free. I let my hair grow long, so you can stop thinking about me.

I said my hair is long, so you don’t have to think about me.

Advice from the sidewalk gets me through this black and white week.

Calendars with dates on them and glasses full of whiskey.

Here the time seems to melt off the walls, the same way the paper

Reads the news. The milk man has the rubber bands while I carry his soul.

Deep, beneath this “human” shit, there lies a lady dead before her birth.

Black lips, black eyes, black mind; nothing here makes any sense.