With Turkish Delight

The Queen lures me into her castle, 
and like a child I want more more more. 
Nothing matters but that desire 
for the tender meat of sugar 
mixed with starch. 

The sugar dusting 
sticks to my fingers 
as I sit in a kitchen jail cell 
under no lock, no key, 
no guards at all. 
I’ll sit and eat and eat and eat. 

By the time my siblings find me 
the sugar will hold me together, 
the sucrose covering my skin 
and internal organs, 
making me just as much a statue 
as the stone ones the witch creates.

Gumbo House

I draw your thoughts in the sand 
Using shells to dot “I”s 
and sticks to dot “T”s 
I remember every word 
of your softshell oration 
About how this house was coming back 
even if you had to pry it 
like crab meat from the shell. 

From front porch to crawfish tail, 
this house is old like gumbo. 
The mother sauces 
hold together the roux, 
grandmother Phillips 
holds together the house. 

Six generations of family 
have picked shrimp 
and shelled oysters here. 
They shelled so many 
the driveway was made of shells. 

The kitchen knows its work. 
Its inundated in seafood 
so much that you can smell it 
in the walls.

Rabbit Ears Aren't the Only Thing With Poor Reception

I’m not receptive
to spending time
at the afterparty
of a marriage ceremony.

I’ve never been to the marriage
of a friend, or relative
that I love.
It’s always been my parents
dragging me along.

Chocolate waterfalls
couldn’t make it up to me,
much less this piss poor fountain
and clearly frozen strawberries
my father offers me.

It takes two bites
before I realize,
one day this could be mine.
There will be fresh strawberries
and a damn huge fountain
at my reception.

The Sound

You keep smiling,

wear it ear to ear.

If we can't use our mouths,

we can show off our teeth.

It's been nothing but silence for so long.

It's been one week so far

but it feels like so much longer.

I Know You Know

It's ok to cry little girl. 
I know you know your Father cares 
About every hair on your head. 
How much more does He care 
About the strings in your heart? 

All of the pain you feel, little girl, 
Is not for nothing. It’s taking you somewhere. 
You may not be able to tell where, 
that’s the pain covering your eyes. 
I know you know why the pain is here. 

Examine your heart little girl, 
If you find a picture of me, 
let it serve you well. 
I know you know I’ll do the same 
And then we won’t be as broken anymore. 

If you think of me, little girl, 
I know you know I think of you, 
Think of our Father first, 
Because He cares 
About the strings we tie around our hearts.