In Memoriam Mae Noblitt

Pearl Avenue runs past the high-school lot,
Bends with the trolley tracks, and stops, cut off
Before it has a chance to go two blocks,
At Colonel McComsky Plaza. Berth’s Garage
Is on the corner facing west, and there,
Most days, you'll find Flick Webb, who helps Berth out.

Flick stands tall among the idiot pumps—
Five on a side, the old bubble-head style,

In Memoriam M.K.H., 1911-1984 She taught me what her uncle once taught her:
How easily the biggest coal block split

Beside a humble stone, a tree
Floats in the cemetery’s air,
Not planted in memoriam there,
But growing wild, uncultured, free.

In memoriam Mary Ann, 1932–1980 The five or six of them, sitting on the rocks
Out at Lanesville, near Gloucester; it is like
Listening to music. Several of them are teachers,
One is a psychologist, one is reading a book,

(In Memoriam: Charles Doughty, 1843-1926) Under no hanging heaven-rooted tree,
Though full of mammuks’ nests,

Venerable black women
You of yesterday, you of today.
Black mothers of tomorrow yet to be
These lines are homage to you, for you.

Magnificent black women
The poets and singers have been remiss
Have sung too few poems and songs of you
And the image makers have not recorded your beauty.

I’m four
at the hospital I was born in.
From behind the nurse’s
white gown and mask:

I want you to count backward from

ten for me now
out loud.

*

What will we do
when there is nobody left
to kill?

*

40,000 gallons of oil gushing into
the ocean
But I
sit on top this mountainside above

I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life.
I want a peek at the back
Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed grows.
A girl gets sick of a rose.

I want to go in the back yard now
And maybe down the alley,
To where the charity children play.
I want a good time today.