From Imhotep's Kundalini

what thoughts I have of you tonight, Du Bois
of bodies rocked and minds embalmed in bark
our blanched arrival—seethin with scandal's mark
nowadays I peep you in the bean-pie seller's poise

with that silhouette fit for bust or cameo
I can't always divine your debonair birth
or your boocoo brain laborin like an earth
in hallelujah's ether, somehow duckin death's blow

sure sprung from Imhotep's kundalini
stitchin white reconstruction's funeral shroud
scriptin Philly dirges for the cryin out loud
cussin Garvey's name over martinis

sometimes I wonder if you double agent on the page
or mastermind of our ordered rage

 

Yolanda Wisher, "From Imhotep’s Kundalini" from Monk Eats an Afro. Copyright © 2014 by Yolanda Wisher.  Reprinted by permission of Hanging Loose Press.
Source: Monk Eats an Afro (Hanging Loose Press, 2014)
More Poems by Yolanda Wisher