More Than a Woman

Mama, no more water whitlow, you do not scrub Anymore, denim in zinc tub Papa, paucity an’ bad choices are your end; for years you hit hard rock with sledge-hammer When flint stone split open eyeball I bet you curse God in native tongue You slipped out ‘fore Jesus an’ I start healing them sick folks Mama, no more, no more boiled banana water You are two women When bare feet … cause big mouths to scorn the black boy, big mouths like Limbaugh an’ Oriley, you prophesied When them nefarious streets looked at me, like pupils fixed on them Arabs, you barrowed broad shoulders like a man, but you are two women Root fed branches an’ leaves trapped sun light, an’ create so that root an’ limbs host olive-throated parakeets, noisy little broods When the smell of mangoes went I lost pursuit of purpose, but now, there’s a morning fire Mama, no more clothes to scrub, just a sponge-bath in zinc tub, in perfumed oil