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