(no subject)

For national poetry month.

to thelma who worried because i couldn't cook
--Lucille Clifton

because no man would taste you
you tried to feed yourself
kneading your body
with your own fists, the beaten thing
rose up like a dough
and burst in the oven of your hunger.
madam, i'm not your gifted girl,
i am a woman and
i know what to do.