No doubt she was a singer
of naughty verse
and hated judgments
(black and otherwise)
and wove a life
of stunning contradiction,
was driven mad
by obvious
professions
and the word
“sister”
hissed by snakes
belly-low,
poisonous,
in the grass.
Waiting with sex
or tongue
to strike.
Behold the brothers!
They strut behind
the casket
wan and sad
and murderous.
Thinking whom
to blame
for making this girl
die
alone, lashed
denied
into her room.
This girl who would not lie;
and was not born
to be “correct.”