Works Presented

10 pm (4 ardith)

little boys in little towns

Note: (000, YYMMDD) = the approximate Yahoo Message Board entry number and date.
Spelling, punctuation, grammar, and line phrasing are as originally posted by the author.

u called from houston i waz looking out on night its stars wondering if they were lonely wondering how many blues compund across memory 2 blacken night & create a universe or how many stars know there r other stars & r they alone like me or u & the hours laid around me tinting softly in2 shadows the radio a lone voice singing in a million square miles of deep still night

10 pm your hello almost a dream u reclining against our tall still silences against distance & the auburn dark landscape of a tuesday night loneliness

sistuh i know u so well yo locks yo ginger and curry smile yo books yo malcolm & bell hooks quotes african statues & yr late window lit

10 pm from houston there were such blues in yr dreds like sky inverting around u & a sea of stars like the ones slaves saw on the black warrior when they leaned from confusion in2 the boundless night eye of freedom i could see u in the infinite theater of the world its navy velvets pulled closed u speaking in soliloquy the country behind u kept in darkness taut & voiceless a panorama of fluctuating blues

city turning from the day u were philosophical resigned eazy whichever way & in love & pain exhaling stars while being crippled finding voice over miles of silences ribboning then disappearing u said u were ok that u just needed 2 talk u sifted that dark beach grain of sand by grain u found yoself "romus" u said "i am different believe me mortal bluer than any evening of a lover’s leaving" i listened the jazz slow u speaking on long beach poems linguistics then returning to the pain of having loved & had yo laughter given back in plain packages anonymously on yo doorstep

we always laugh we r that way sneak a smile in2 yo pocket 12 am we say goodbye u say u’ll be back soon i say the city haz not changed & that i have seen a few of the cats lately & that the movement here misses u in closing u militantly call me "my brotha" i say "black power" my dear sistuh my friend

Romus © Copyright, 2000

little boys in little towns roam miles of space & spook the speculators who speculate on the tiny specialties of an afternoon little boys take towns & turn them 2 tinsel they wrestle in the yard tummy round they fall 2 the ground & lose teeth some run all upward down beating the arms a flail all east & west & well & beaded sound all a scurry little boys in little towns hurry they dash the corners & clank their rank toes & the shirt tails wildly sail merry go fast the streets fly in little towns the echoes fail 3 o’clock the weary schools sigh & the madame teachers cello their "well wells" they wash their hands of this recede in2 flowered hats & straighten the ruffled mats the little boys tell ballooning conjectures they blame the calico cats their sticky fingers point at white walls anointed with painted pats & an occasional mouth the misses’ swell & go 2 yelling polite cursers inquire "what the hell" "this evening the evening will be shot!" kettle pots scream "we r hot!" placid fathers recalculate the legislated nots & move so slightly in the palm of the day little boys in little towns move in cackles the misses’ call it malevolent mayhem they call it play the array of gay things pinwheels & mirrorwater blocks & boxes gardens & red clay the wrecking the roses the roiting on the roofing regaling rudimentary roughness reaching in the rotunda & dreaming by the bay "they r deliberate in their calamity" the neighbor women say "they will bloom in2 undesirable things providence will exact its pay" then the neighbor women turn away but where the air meets crystal day where little lions push past shadows where cannons demand walls & wars where poetry demands an eazy ear where little boys vanish and appear & the year iz littered with absences we take the summers in full carousel goldenrod across the laughing lawns we ready r eyes we steer the senses we populate the carnival of r memories we cruise through the common bores & r little boys come crashing through the doors we watching them run through the whatnots watching the day dip from hot acquiescing smiles through taut teeth celebrate their youth their new breath their feet the perfect little hands the hollering the caroling day with this whirl underneath

the Boom & Pow the wonderful riot here now

Romus © Copyright, 2000