Nigger of Delight

She is a nigger of delight.

Mushrooms rise up as she passes.

She keeps her nappy business

in a billowing skirt stamped

with those hippopotamus batiks.

She is an octaroon of boons

passing out Faberge eggs

containing ceramic weasels.

She keeps her motherlode in this

vest of taffeta and cat-style

sashays through the remnants of plum stalls.

She fixes an eye on boys on the wheel

and passes out little havanas

at the tapestry meal. She loves

sloe gin on ice cream and grins

at grocery boys and I’ve seen her

tame cock-fighters with a twist of her heel.

She speaks to priggy prelates in

the House of Commons and is Dean

of Desire in the College of Cardinals.

Fall on Mulberry Creek

The whitetail leaps onto the road.

Running in front of my car. Leaves

still cling to trees. There is shelter

in the grove just above Mulberry Creek.