NYU Black Renaissance Noire Spring/Summer 2014 | Page 17

BLACK PRESIDENT
Twenty years later in Sonoma California
He confessed to his loving wife—to having been
A weakling and a spineless scoundrel. A turtle’s spawn,
A lackey, a whelp-dog. He squealed and squealed,
History made me do it! History made me do it!
.
* ( dueling quatrains, #1, Sylvia )
You baked me a cake and it’s not even my birthday
I ate a slice politely though it’s wormy and stale
How thin
you are dear Sylvia
You must be suffering from poetry

how terribly thin

* (dueling quatrains, #2, Emily)
Eternity suits you
Emily new rouge on your cheeks
Entertainment Today
wants to interview you
How Mr. So and So Higginson
spurned your love
How Mr. So and So Johnson
mended your bones
*

If a black man could be president
Could a white man be his slave?
Could a sinner enter heaven
By uttering his name?
If the terminator is my governor
Could a cowboy be my king?
When shall the cavalry enter Deadwood
And save my prince?
An exo-cannibal eats her enemies
An indo-cannibal eats her friends
I’d rather starve myself silly
Than to make amends
Blood on the altar
Blood on the lamb
Blood in the chalice
Not symbolic
but fresh

The ash fell all day today
Fell all day yesterday
Will fall all day tomorrow
From Dachau to Buchenwald
From the Pripyat River
To the Kiev Reservoir
From the Fukushima shores
To the Todai-ji temple
*
One bonshou bell
Cries out to
Another
lame
vir

ox
al

BLACK RENAISSANCE NOIRE

Goes

15

And a