Poem of the Day
1981
By Asiya Wadud
in a world the orange sun resets
in a world the orange sun resets
A whispering far away
heard by the poet in a bower
of flesh his limbs stir
I’m getting tired of not wearing underwear
and then again I like it
strolling along
We join the animals
not when we fuck
or shit
I am stuck in traffic in a taxicab
which is typical
and not just of modern life
Picasso made me tough and quick, and the world;
just as in a minute plane trees are knocked down
outside my window by a crew of creators.
Peaceful room,
peaceful blanket,
large pillow, cold,
as my own noise’s, no
one’s,
listening,
I (the stone) go (don’t
blind you! even
know
I seldom remember what
someone was wearing
what color their eyes are
Six days after I put the Audubon Bumper
on the truck I noticed the difference
and Annie sitting next to me