By M. Carmen Lane
you
are only
interested
in the dead
pieces of
me
black woman
raped/
tracked
by white men
with bottles
stones
lesbian/
who lost
her lover
daughter
witness to
too much
violence
suicide/
dull blade
time release
pills
mother/
baby that
never took
its first
breath
Indian
without
his song
father/
whose
children were
stolen because
they are
queer
addict/ hands
dried with
nicotine &
blood
you are
only interested
in the grief &
trauma
a moaning song
eyes that
have seen
too much
nose that
smells your
shit from
afar
feet soppy
of your
entitled
mess
shrunk
down
powerful
sweeping/
your house
to a horrifying
clean
parts
left on
the dying
tree/ rotting
flesh dried on
an old rope
your daddy’s
whipping post/
crucified in a
jail cell/ dusty
road to
drag me
limp
he/
who was
between
an ancestor’s
legs
bastard
runaway
musician
stopped
at the edge
of jazz
poet/ never
shared her
good words
dancer/ who
dared not
to deform
her feet
warrior
whose
resistance
warranted
no tale
listen closely
you sonofabitch
those parts
of me
alive &
well/
untangled
smooth
as a scar
they/ are
coming for
you
Copyright © M. Carmen Lane. All Rights Reserved.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
M. Carmen Lane (African-American/Mohawk/Tuscarora) is a poet, cultural worker and consultant. Carmen's work has been published in Red Ink Magazine, The Yellow Medicine Review and is a contributor to the Lambda Literary Award nominated anthology Sovereign Erotics: A Collection of Two-Spirit Literature. She is the author of Calling Out After Slaughter
www.lanecatalytics.com
