Two pieces from November 2004

1. (fragment)
I am the Black infant
mortality rate, more elusive
than census data portends
with tallies of death
per capita; I am

death in perpetuity.

breast-fed memories of
wet-nursing master's heir,
weaned at first breath
to hold my tongue and
swallow bitter milk

like it was honey.

2. Augusta(haiku)
inky starlit sky
seeping through Georgia pine, trees
sway rapturously