senzo

carnegie hall, october 19, 2014
beauty eludes me, usually. i soak

up the lush red, violet, indigo blooms
abdullah ibrahim’s cool fingers pluck

from the keyboard’s bed, but bring to these ‘rooms’

(stanzas forged from replayed past as today’s

not-news) no solacing bouquets. my weeds?
i conjure rough green to rupture from seeds

so furious they bleed — or, grieving, raise

crabgrass and blue notes, peppered with rust,

where he grows flowers. yes, i tend my plants
incisively : no phrase that droops or wants

out of the sun survives long. but the rest

run wild, flush vivid, throw shade, deluge fruit,
lavishly express their dissonant root.
Source: Poetry (January 2016)