My Mother Goes to Vote in the American Election

  My mother is the type, who even if good old Santa Clause is running for the local election, would not vote for an obese white man. for her the “X” is so precious, you could say she thinks of herself, as bigger than the whole electoral college.   She will never write on a…

Mary Magdalene

  How a woman, who escaped A barrage of stones danced to Jesus, The sweet music of a mandolin, A step closer, the belly dancing navel, Looking like a whirlpool, sultry And inviting. How a woman, who could Sweeten Jesus’s lips, with The sweetest flow-through Of viscous honey.   Her body, which like the walls…