True Imposter


She sings the Church songs on Sunday
and tries to emulate the feeling the singer had
In its absence, she taps those soon-to-be
manicured nails on the table
and taps those eight years old Shirleys
that even God would question on the floor
She bows her head and damn near speaks
in tongues that even the tongue can’t decipher
She taps the mind to make it believe, like she does, that She is doing all the right things to make it into Heaven’s God’s grace
She can’t wait ’til Church is over
So She can resume how others see her
All along, She was planning her day

Black as a Cowboy


Ride ’em!
Until they call You, “Cowboy.”
Take hold of the reins
and raise your arm and fist
up high to show you mean business.
And, when that one tires,
raise the other one
Steady and balance yourself
to avoid being knocked off
the merry-go-round.
There’s no need to raise your voice
to be taken seriously.
Remember, you don’t have to lower
your head to know where you’re going