Printer Friendly

Foggy Postcard.

 I walked with the sandals on that you had liked by the broken
bridge that you once pointed out. The covered linen blouse and lined-up
bellboys could see through the thin fabric
 that I loved you on those cloudy days-- clouds that had your teeth
marks in their edges-- until everything seemed normal to me.
Soon came the funeral for this absurd body of mine
and you already know how death is:
owner and lady of the space in white, usurper of the word,
then you receive this recent death and correspond. 


COPYRIGHT 2008 Institute of African-American Affairs (IAAA)
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 2008 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

Article Details
Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback
Author:Castellon, Blanca
Publication:Black Renaissance/Renaissance Noire
Date:Jun 22, 2008
Previous Article:Electrocariagram.
Next Article:Good-Bye Sadness.

Terms of use | Privacy policy | Copyright © 2020 Farlex, Inc. | Feedback | For webmasters