Saturday, June 8, 2013

Ashaki M. Jackson



The mouth opens like a grave




Our mouths open like her grave




Our mouths: her grave   thick-

tongued cavern   From our throats she blooms

Sunday hymn toward a quiet sky




Thick-tongued quiet   Our mouths

caverns   graves   Our throats

bloom a Sunday sky hymn




Throat hymns

The sky: a grave of tongues

Thick blooms quiet our cavernous mouths

like a Sunday




Our mouths   Our

mouths   Our mouths  

Our mouths   quiet


And sky

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