Hurricane Ida

Chicago
mid day
outside
windy blue-sky day...
but
down south
N' Orleans way
cat four
breaks doors
sinks tower;
downs power;
loves
threatened from above;

so we pray
for those who evacuate,
who stay,
those here
on this wedding day
of love fused
kick-ass tunes
friendship
family,
forgiveness ooze;

next day,
Chicago scene
hung over
to varied degrees
of necessity
​oblivious
to the pain
of the furious
Delta hurricane,
perhaps the cosmic cost
of lives
love lost
to reap, mill
​sugar cane,
and fill
north-bound
migration trains
visceral need
to leave
compelled
to dwell
in Chicago’s
red-lined cells
by a hurricane
of another name.

New Orleans

this city is
not loving
is a mean-stealing
mama
who lies, jails,
is jealous,
furious
sulks,
hurts,
spews dirt;
brews
beaucoup bucks
sucked
into cracks and crevices
with buried bodies
burst pipes,
broken, bruised streets
few speak
lest tourists flee;
and damn good people,
God's people
are damn tired
as solutions swirl
non-profits birth
prayers said
hearts bled
and the water rises
the ground sinks
trash stinks
choir can't sing
everything's bogged
sogged
no altar
or cool pool
just darkness,
damp incense,
unwritten shifting laws,
rickety walls;
the high priest
can't bless
for too much religion
the people
can't go up or out
too much restriction
the Spirit
can't speak or be heard
too much commotion.
Father God
are we in the belly of the whale?
hear this wail
and spit us OUT!

Not Nice

He boldly told me
as we walked
past one another 
"I'm not nice"
and I put away
my "I see you" smile
and took him 
seriously
by the lavender house
where our drummer
neighbor
was murdered
one morning
by a different black man;

my friend
was raised
near Shreveport
her grandparents
died when
the town's white folks 
put a match to their house
(they were inside);
so "not nice" 
was kind 
to warn me 
of the beasts 
he walked with
that day 
carried forward
​in his DNA.

Clean Up

raw meat roasts
under the sun
in garbage bins
trucks come
move
trash away
residue
remains
stings eyes
brings flies
communities
rise
work
to cleanse, clean
neighbor finds
a power-pressure
sprayer machine
lines up nine
black bins
bleach-water-filled
to the brim
all night
by moonlight;
morning
tipped
on the street
stinking concrete
redeemed,
to consecrate
circulate
with Baking Soda,
final coda,
proud of
warm, restored
sun-softened
black plastic;
last lid
double take...
pure, fresh,
excrement
must have happened
this morning
don't want to see
don't want to tell
don't want that smell
stuck in nostrils,
that smell,
residue of hate,
someone chose
​to retaliate
keep minds stuck
​in "what the fuck?"
keep city stuck
in pre-hurricane muck.

Risen

risen
beyond my Spirit's
capacity to see
once upon a time
we were in tune
but you've moved
out of my league
and it feels
like the deepest
loss of my life
deeper than
your dad's passing;

and you radiate;

for three years
since the injury
I believed
I had failed
to protect you
but now I see
you are protected
by all this,
from me,
from who you used to be
re-birthed
by what seemed a tragedy
into a new,
true identity.

non binary

they/them
disorients
disrupts
my conception
of beloved
God gave life to
through me;
​yet
honestly
this happened
once before;
when
their heart
beat
a fast-train 
roar
so different
than their sister's
steady pulse;
was told
this new wild child
would be a boy-
surprised 
when emerged -
a she;
so it seems 
written 
she-he tension
need
for liberation
from gender 
denomination
has grown
on me -
now ill at ease
with "she"

Knives and Spoons

Freddy and Alma
two spoons
snuggle, protect
big connect:
Freddy and me
arm over body
butt backed into
crotch safety;
Alma and me
​widows we
shared and laughed
about how God
​was getting us
to eat the last
slices of a  loaf.

​Richard and Ray
two knives
to save my life
cut through
expose truth
that hurts,
heals, peels
back skin
I don't know I'm in.

Crossing

hooked
by the certainty
of your PRESENCE
after a "Red Sea"
​led to belief
then 38 years
wandering
encountering
not sedating
doubts, fears,
hates,
old ideas
a life-filled desert
to prepare;
through You,
in You
i’ve prayed
loved
given birth
raised children
praised
worked
seen Freddy through
to You,
moved,
surrendered one day a time
perfectly imperfectly
thousands
millions of times
you have lovingly said
"Pay attention to me"
heard aha
in sacred pause
or Big Book smacks,
Biblical laws
painful life whacks;
and now, Lord,
you break off
this twig to
be taken
cross the Jordan
enter the land
you've chosen
where disbelief,
is ready to reap
and I am ready
to give
say yes,
live
to listen
be guided
to leave pride
submerged
under river's body
to widen tribe,
the mystical body
to further spread
therein your vine
from this twig-weak
but not weary woman
now graced by you
with a spiritual spine.

After Ida

after-the-storm
we transform:

watch Resilience
whip up,
dish out
for-free delicious

sense Compassion
cell-listen
four hours 
sister closet-bound
midst crashing;

witness Honor
open door
to parents
whose home was blown
walls thrown
and welcome
the yappy dog;

listen to Tenderness
as he reads
a picture book
crouched on the curb
with a distracted daughter

watch Justice
advocate
never hesitate
to agitate
for the voiceless,
the forgotten:
"ice coming your way!"

feel Love
as He winds
finds
the lost sheep
tenderly or abruptly reaps
​as needs be,
the divine choreographer
who never sleeps.