One thought on “Two Poems (415)

  1. David

    One of my favorite Baraka poems:

    Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note
    By Amiri Baraka

    Lately, I’ve become accustomed to the way
    The ground opens up and envelopes me
    Each time I go out to walk the dog.
    Or the broad edged silly music the wind
    Makes when I run for a bus…

    Things have come to that.

    And now, each night I count the stars,
    And each night I get the same number.
    And when they will not come to be counted,
    I count the holes they leave.

    Nobody sings anymore.

    And then last night, I tiptoed up
    To my daughter’s room and heard her
    Talking to someone, and when I opened
    The door, there was no one there…
    Only she on her knees, peeking into

    Her own clasped hands.

    By Amiri Baraka

    Reply

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