Friday, July 21, 2006


In this undoneness I must further undo
so much that I once knew

naked before women whose names are unkown
explain which dark part natural, which flesh is mine

show what I never had to show
let ego's shred and ragged clothing go

evicted from what i own
say when I will be ready to move

without map, vehicle, direction, clue
through heavy doors

pain, my new companion is steady
and surprising

toll taker, grant me passage
to the lit road, I can walk upon, again

Akua Lezli Hope

Saturday, July 01, 2006

You are a Job

You forget that you are someone’s job
something they want to hurry away from
a way to pay bills, daycare, college fees

You remember when your butt goes numb
45 minutes of hard plastic pressed in soft flesh
You remember when supper comes late,

tea cup, empty, soup cold, or missing,
no tater tots, no salad, no grapes
each and everyday, irksome things you cannot undo

When help disappears and pain is invisible
though sniffed, scrubbed with disinfectant hand gels
you learn to plan many moves ahead,

wrap requests in ribbons, create sequences,
hoard packets of sugar, salt, pepper, dressings,
call for help an hour before the ambulatory
flee your immobile flesh for home.