“I have heard in the voices of the wind the voices of my dim killed children.”
--Gwendolyn Brooks, “the mother”
The blues is not a vegetarian, so a grilled-cheese sandwich I
know once told me, before it felt sighs of Kenmore irons, on my have-
not dinner table. Call it carnivore-fundamentalist—a growling heard
in bloody packs of centuries. Call it fetish hound for brown in
its gastrointestinal appointments. Call it howls for chattel children, the
flesh of my cuisine, so coats with holes have told me, their voices
low, as if to pass a secret. But I am miles of hunted wiles of
my surviving kin. And I am not a cup of shivers. And we are not the
easy meat for tyranny’s grill. And I know this, like talon wind
knows deep dish singing: I would rather drink muddy water—the
swill of your scat, call hollow logs home, than not fight back. Voices
of my own are gathering, as another scent stokes fire of
this night. And even trees seem to dance, watching flames spit on my
spit, skinning skin of suffering, big dogs made meals for the dim.
The moon jumps over Stormy Monday, whenever your blues is killed.
The sun evicts ice from its building, when courage gives birth to her children.
To read more poetry by Truth Thomas go to http://www.depoetry.com/poets/201303/11_truth_thomas.html.
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The Delaware Poetry Review, or DePoetry.com, is an online compilation of amazing, contemporary poetry gathered by a group of erudite editors based in the Mid-Atlantic Region. This notable compilation of poetry has been available since 2007, publishing new editions about once a year.
Each edition features a variety of poets chosen by the editors. This blog features our published poets.
More new works from the Mid-Atlantic Region are available at DePoetry.com. For feedback, contact depoet@capegazette.com or go to facebook.com/delawarepoetryreview.
