I. “Slave Poet’s 1776 Letter, ‘New Discovery,’ Is for Sale”. —New York Times, November 11, 2005
Phillis to Obour,
Valentine’s Day 1776.
Her lacerating ink
worth $253,000.
In eight years
she will die broke,
but here
she slashes out
pulpit with pen
to sister-friend,
knows a thing or two
about BARBARITY, EVIL
and CRAFTINESS,
and still talkin bout REVOLUTION,
American as the LIBERTY
on her tongue
of Latin-edged lingo.
They sayin
this paper holy grail,
and yeah, this our birthright,
being black and writer.
Phillis speaks to us
across auction and museum,
sings the GOSPEL,
puts it all in
the big man’s hands.
Look how the “P” curls
like the hook
of a Christmas ornament.
Look how she’s
carved out a piece of
DOMINION for us
to sup on, our own
dreamy continent
to idle in,
her purple “X”
on the white sheet
of English Lit.
II.
why do I keep returning
to Miss Phillis
who used to be a sellout
who used to dance
that waitress two-step
that shuffle?
she was a first love
I sniffed the peonies
under her starched verses
and fingered the cornrows
under her waspy bonnet
and she cooed for me
gushed metaphorically
till we were both spent
but not sold
my Phillis
who got served
with the slave’s
not the poet’s
destiny.
VI.
riverine woman
wolverine woman
tambourine woman
Byzantine woman
Maybelline woman
magazine woman
libertine woman
evergreen woman
Springsteen woman
mangosteen woman
mezzanine woman
Benvereen woman
jujubean woman
aquamarine woman
velveteen woman
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