Sorrow’s Home

Sorrow’s Home

when I was a child

I knew encyclopedias

and dictionaries—

wire clothes hangers

beating on my skin

I looked the other way

as long as my playmates

groped me as if I were a girl

and I was nurtured

with wanderlust

I sought adventure

in the dark closet

where my stepfather

littered my pride and pain—

my old poverty

I was hopeful

for my people were λ children

floundering in dark clubs

trying hard to fashion

a better way

war raged

and peace burst out of flowers

we made love

on tropical nights

in palm jungles near the beach