In The Dark

(such sweet sorrow)

such sweet sorrow he wrote
(in a rococo
the swirly hand of curlicues)

such sweet sorrow
the man that I borrowed from her,
the ‘morrow a fantasia
of fantasies & truths & melodies
of uncouth i never wanted to incur,
especially looking suspect
like unspurred
boots in Jehovah’s Texas

such sweet sorrow
is the parting (he said),
but the longing
of a true kiss in the hand
blown liltingly @ a redbird
is good-luck (Mama said)...

“but he likes
blue jays, robins & crows,
never the jam
between my toes,” comments

the poet on ghetto stoop - (so sweet
a sorrow,
make you wanna grow an ol’ afro;

bouffant-style)

“but I have a pick (perhaps

a comb of the same colour) ‘cause

one side of you
looks shiny; the other:
hairy like walnut fur.”

Copyright © 2005 Jacquii Cooke