A copper spoon
that would have been polished silver
slips from a mouth as wide as a watermelon smile
revealing the imagination of a negro child
that invents in pencil, pen and crayon black
like a score from Porgy and Bess
held together by a language that only the outcast speaks
bazaar like segregation on paper
as bleached as falling snow
He knows his ivory canvas Is a delight of privilege
stained with coal and pitch
A plate goes empty
exposing its livid hunger
haunting a reflection
A copper spoon
that would have been polished silver
scrapes against a set chicken-bone teeth
. . . slides from between a pair of thick paper- bag lips
His sweeping eyes
staring into a T. D. Rice cartoon
A delight of privilege
that invents in pencil, pen, and crayon black
bazaar like segregation in heaven
springing from the graveyards of Dixie
where the spook of Jim Crow shades
stained with coal and pitch
a score from Porgy and Bess
held together by a language that only the outcast speaks
A plate goes empty