Poems from AquinasBrat
Washing dishes was my favorite chore;
the soap and hot water warmed me to the core.
I would sit there all night and scrub all clean
any...
God has silver hair.
God has dancing blue eyes,
speaks with the slightest southern accent
that transforms the 'a' in 'amen'
to a sound...
Silence.
It surrounded me like a thick blanket,
a false illusion of security as I walked
across Fulton and through the market.
My flats...