Finals Week

Our hour of judgment.
Insomnia rush rules here;
the pupils' trials.

The Kingdom Dream

My eyes welcomed the darkness
     and omniscience that the stars brought.

My eyes saw gold rings and
     the face of power, reflections,
     in the unstained mirror.

I was not the queen
     bee, whose honey hole is lifted
     and plugged up tight,

     aimed at the ground.
I was not a slave to the production
     of slaves.
I was not feminine and fragile
     and filled with regret.

I was Woman.  I was King.
Omnipotent.  All-Knowing.
 - I woke suddenly and

my fingers darted to the keyboard and
I - waited impatiently
for the screen, which I could not rush,
to turn on.

Breakfast in Winter

The unmistakeable smell of water-swelled oats,
motionless and day-old, in
the plastic bowl, brushes frightfully slow
against my nose.

In my mouth they cling haplessly
to tongue and teeth,
dear to them
as mother's teat.

Awaiting the black gorge and
the confused expression of the
black woman.

She doesn't know whether to chew endlessly
or to swallow the bloated, whole.