abluesforbrklyn:

Talk to me, Poem … I’m all alone … Nobody understands what I’m saying…

Have you been in jail, Poem … A lot of poems go to jail … like a lot of women who get tired of no good men … Do no good poems beat up on people … Do no good poems say I’m sorry the next day …

I know poems get lost … because they’re always being found … There are Wanted poster … milk bottles … and lonesome guitars in the night … looking for a poem to take home … 

I know poems get neglected … just like doo-wop singing on the back porch and the deacons opening church with Leaning on the Everlasting Arms … people forget what got them over … what saved them 

What are your plans, Poem … Give it up … I hear you’re a rap star now … going for the Grammy and the gold … everybody singing your praises … Do you ever miss your home … 

The sign on I-81 says: Shoulders Are For Emergencies Only … Ride me, Poem … I think I’ve got the blues … 

- Nikki Giovanni, Shoulders Are For Emergencies Only 
Quilting The Black-Eyes Pea: poems and not quite poems