Who Am I Thinkin Of

By Ntozake Shange

(for beverly)

 

when i write    i think of my friends
the people of my visions
but how cd i presume to think of men
who leave so little behind     i find them
in my wash cloth    in the dirty dishes
by my unmade bed
when i write i erase these dark halls
lone subway stops   the car followin
too closely    how cd i presume
to address my self
to men
they leave so little behind
& still i dont remember.
 
once a poet
delivered valentino
on a tie-dyed sheet w/
tequila passion
the sheik gallopin a desert for me
another sketched me
in the midst of bougainvillea
another saturated my basement with painted skeletons
long ago a poet
telephoned from ny
to have breakfast
in seattle
 
i’ve waded in hidden creeks
with the men i remember
the others had no sense of humor
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