Black Ode

Your beauty is a thunder And I am set a wandering—a wandering Deafened Down twilight tin-can alleys And moist sounds “OOo wee, Baby, look what you could get if your name was Willie” Oh, to dip your words like snuff. A laughter, black and streaming And I am come a being—a being Rounded Up Baptist aisles, so moaning And moist sounds “Bless her heart. Take your bed and walk. You been heavy burdened” Oh, to lick your love like tears.