Reality Show

An editor… wrote back that she liked the “Negro” poems best… requested that Gwendolyn [Brooks] approach Knopf again when she had more of these.

AMY SICKELS

NEWS

It is like a love for men, this

Love of language, and we are

Men at war, says the news.

No matter how long we speak

English, English means not

To count us or to count us

Darkly, but I know what

I want and so does channel 4.

They give it to me, one heap

After another: soldiers who,

Following another battle, shed,

Sweat, and spit like fountains.

THE HOUSEWIVES

All dese negroes calln us cute

But aint nobody tryna pay de light bill

Brothas on both coasts sayin Damn you

Sexy But not one payin dis light bill

And here our grinnin asses go after each

Compliment

Lettin de fine ones cop a feel

TALK SHOW

We can talk love

If you want,

Though I need fuel,

Need bread, bed,

And sex. I go

To my pocket

For change. One nickel

Fails me, so I find

Another, dead man

At my finger, monument

Against my thumb. Take,

For instance, our love.

Take or give it away,

Or sell it for all

I care, for the next

Nickel I pinch, not much

Money to debate or make

You stay long

Enough to turn on

The TV where we see

The real world done

And watch a man

Grin then run

A finger through

His enemy’s hair.

THE BACHELOR

All dese negroes swear Im cute

But none of em payin dis light bill

Liars in Lithonia and doctors in Detroit say

Damn you sexy But dey wont pay dis light bill

Still my ass go grinnin after each

Goldtoothed word

I can feel feel feel