Bicycles

by Nikki Giovanni

  that have hardly been

  properly ridden

  Just me gently allowing

  the air to escape

  but saving that good rubber

  Just me bent and crying

  admitting the truth

  We’re not going anywhere

  Thank God

  for Monday Night

  Football

  FAME

  (for my former Football-playing student)

  When Fame comes knocking

  At your door

  You’ve got to do Fame

  And something more

  When spotlights up

  Your telephone

  You’ve got to answer

  Then go alone

  It’s good to have money

  It’s good to have friends

  But when you add Fame

  Then the trouble begins

  You’ve got to have sense

  To go with the dollars

  Know where to fence

  Value the hollers

  When you open that package

  Of fortune and Fame

  Keep your sanity

  Keep your good name

  You’ve got talent

  And good looks too

  And now you’ll need

  To change your view

  Control your family

  Control your friends

  ’Cause this is where

  Your new life begins

  As Fame comes walking

  Through that door

  Sure—do the Fame

  But have something more

  DUETS

  I don’t do duets

  Even as a kid I didn’t like

  Sharing

  I would just as soon

  Let you have it

  Than cut it in half

  I sing solo

  Because I’m not good

  With harmony

  I remember my sister

  Wanting to borrow

  Some thing

  a sweater

  skirt blouse

  whatever

  She could have it

  My tennis shoes

  Had holes in them

  Kept together

  By safety pins

  I made it cool

  To be poor

  In another age

  I would have been a vegan

  I don’t play doubles

  In tennis

  Don’t bowl with a league

  If I was a fat lady

  I alone would sing

  At the end

  And listen

  If you don’t

  Come home

  Soon

  I’ll be

  Very

  Disappointed

  BOILED BLUES

  (for the Mississippi Delta)

  I like my blues boiled with a few tears

  On the side

  I like my men a little crazy

  And my women to be good friends

  I like my sons bold

  And my daughters brave

  I am the Mississippi Delta

  I like my people black

  Nobody understands why they stayed with me

  The folks who drained this basin were as mean

  As a rattlesnake waking up at dawn

  You do not have to take this

  Seriously

  If you take it seriously

  You will sweat the magic

  You will blind the magic

  The magic will not sing

  I want mud on my breasts

  And honey on my toes

  And something really great

  Against my thighs

  Come on baby

  Come on baby come on baby

  Dance with me

  Does a nudist wear an apron

  When she cooks

  I like my water on tap

  My beans dried

  And hot sauce on my chitterlings

  If were a shower

  I could saturate your hair

  Work my way over your lips

  Across your shoulders

  Around your waist

  Through your knees

  To the tips of your toes

  And back again

  Warm wet salty

  Sweet

  But I’m a River

  Started because an ice field fell in love

  With the sun

  Started small

  You can jump me

  In Minnesota

  But I ate well and grew

  I am the Delta

  I am black

  And unafraid of the wind

  I caress the Crescent City

  I bring the blues

  This time

  I’ll take mine fried

  LOVE LUTHER

  To not love Luther

  Is to hate blue skies in summer

  Is to disdain the tears of a baby missing her mother

  Is to prefer screw top to cork

  To not love Luther

  Is to want to be bitten

  By a rabid fox

  Or chased in the night by a hungry mosquito

  Or to prefer the silence

  Of growing grass

  To the mellow voice of love

  If the Isley Brothers were the Outlaws

  Between the Sheets

  Luther was our Mountie riding

  The Rolls-Royce of our Dreams

  If some insecure Rap moguls

  Called us dirty names

  Luther elevated us

  To Princess of Passion

  They say Romeo and Casanova

  Were the sultans of love

  With a secret technique to drive

  Women crazy

  Luther knew the main ingredient

  Is just to say Stop for Love

  A man’s smile is aphrodisiac enough

  Love, Luther?

  We all do

  Just as we love Montana skies

  With all those shooting stars

  Just as we love the smell of rosemary

  We have whisked across our pillows

  Just as we love the voice that so classically told us

  Love

  Happens first

  Between the ears

  A SONG FOR YOU

  I sing for you

  Out of tune

  Off key

  Forgetting lyrics

  Remembering longing

  I perch

  On your heart

  I whisper in your ear

  Tiptoeing lightly

  Across your lashes

  I steal a kiss

  You flick

  And blink

  And flick

  Again

  I fly away

  Leaving my song

  doo wop doo wop

  doo wop doo ditty ditty wop

  FRIENDS IN LOVE

  Times change

  Jobs change

  Friends remain

  Forever

  We age

  We sage

  Friends laugh

  Together

  We sigh

  We cry

  Friends in love

  Completely

  Hands and hearts

  Tied up as one

  In this package

  Neatly

  NO TRANSLATIONS

  the smells of a pot roast from the oven

  turnips garlic onions

  potatoes celery parsnips

  tomatillo yucca root

  Jack Frost painting

  the windows

  my cold feet

  your warm back

  “It started in New Orleans

  but now it’s everywhere…” Pure Jazz on your dial

  chocolates coffee

  a good red wine

  18 degrees and falling

  high winds

  maybe a power loss

  giggles laughter

  sweatpants jeans

  I speak to you


  in the language

  of love

  no translations

  necessary

  TWIRLING

  Grits with Vermont yellow

  cheddar cheese

  White toast

  with that single pat of butter

  in the center

  A pounded pork chop

  or two

  Dandelion greens

  (I wish mustard were in season)

  Radishes gently sautéed

  in a mixture of olive oil and chardonnay

  with just a splash of balsamic vinegar

  And you

  in the center

  Twirling

  ’round and around and around

  Dance for me, Baby

  The pig feet haven’t even

  unthawed

  GOOD BOOKS

  When I grow up I want to be a book. I want to be a blue sky with white fluffy clouds and lots of pretty flowers. I want bluebirds and redbirds and mother robins flying by. Maybe a lazy kitten swatting at butterflies that light on her nose. I will tell the stories of little possums making friends with Mr. Snake. Everybody thought Mr. Snake was mean and grumpy but he had a small cut on his side and he couldn’t put a Band-Aid on it. When Zip Mouse and his friends discovered the problem they were brave and helped Mr. Snake. Grandmother will put me on her lap and read my stories until the children fall asleep dreaming peppermint dreams. They will learn to be brave.

  As I grow older I will be a bigger book. I will gather all the words and definitions for words and definitions of the defining and people will come to me when they need to know something. I will have pictures and examples and maps and formulas. I will show them seven continents; I will present riddles (Cup and saucer. Saucer and cup. Where does a hole go when it’s filled up?) I explain there are seven seas and two big oceans. There were glaciers and dinosaurs. Alexander the Great thought he had conquered the world. He didn’t even get halfway there. Earth thinks it is the only life in the universe, we haven’t been far away enough to know. I will ask questions: Why do we have wars? Why are people hungry? There will be times people will not like me. I will be banned and forbidden. But I will be brave. I will stand for light and truth.

  And when I am old I will be the oldest book. I will sit on Grandfather’s lap and tell The Greatest Story Ever Told. The children will be dressed for bed and I will sing a psalm or recite a proverb. I will try to always be a good book. And the children will dream good dreams of good people trying to do good things.

  GOT A MINUTE (TO FALL IN LOVE?)

  what I’m trying to

  make clear is:

  I’ve saved you so

  much stress and strain

  I saved time and money too

  I talked

  to your secretary

  and checked

  with your schedule

  I brought coffee

  to your assistant

  and sent flowers

  to your mom

  I keep jerky

  for your dog

  lint remover

  for your suits

  And even a neutral

  color shine

  for your shoes

  I always have

  a nail file

  and musk lotion

  for your hands

  And did you notice

  the brown leather chair

  for you to relax

  in when you stop

  by my office

  Stick ’ems

  and stop ’ems

  Clarify

  Consistent

  I am perfect

  for the job

  I save you time

  and money:

  Got a minute

  to fall

  in

  love?

  WHERE DO YOU ENTER

  Where do you enter

  A poem

  At the same place

  I enter you

  with balance

  and trust

  and a jazzy sense

  of adventure

  Painting outside

  the lines

  wearing clothes cut

  against the bias

  with spices

  among the flowers

  A poem unfolds

  like a baby bat

  testing her wings

  or a kitten taking

  her first steps

  or a good dog

  moving arthritic limbs

  toward the door

  There is sadness

  as well as loss

  in the promise

  of love

  We begin a poem

  with longing

  and end with

  responsibility

  And laugh

  all through the storms

  that are bound

  to come

  We have umbrellas

  We have boots

  We have each

  other

  If I may quote Labelle:

  Voulez-vous coucher

  Avec moi? Ce soir?

  TOURISM

  I am always a tourist

  No matter where

  I am

  At home

  Or abroad

  An American

  in Aruba

  A Black

  in Oxford

  A woman

  in Baghdad

  Alone

  cruising

  The Panama Canal

  Cold in Alaska

  Comfortable only

  when the plane

  Lands

  Never sorry

  Yet never safe

  In your arms

  or out

  THE SCENIC ROUTE

  MapQuest is

  No help there

  Are too many

  Bumpy back roads

  That they call

  The Scenic Route

  And not enough four-lanes

  To quickly come

  To conclusion

  I follow the curve

  Of your smile

  You turn flicking

  Your signal

  And I

  paying scant attention

  Go straightaway

  Past the Detour sign

  Though I am

  Drowning

  You never

  Look back

  Didn’t you notice

  I was following

  you

  TREE LINE

  We live above the tree line

  If we stand

  Tippy toe we can

  Reach into the Milky Way

  And run our fingers

  Around the rim

  Of that chocolate pot

  Others call the Black Hole

  This night is made

  For walking

  Holding your hand

  Having a crescent moon

  Laugh down on us

  There are things

  Flying around

  Even at this height

  Where it should be

  So cold only ice

  And snow grow

  Yet there is something

  Evergreen

  About this love

  That I

  Offer you

  THE ARTIST

  And so it comes

  To this

  The sun beating

  Down

  The people indifferently passing

  And we…out

  Of breath

  In a pool of salty

  Sweat

  Laughing Happy

  In each other’s

  Trust

  That once again

  We gentled the stone

  All the way down

  And will now

  Push it back up

  But we will wait

  Until the sun sets

  We will wait

  Until the stores

  Close

  We will wait

  While they put their ga
rbage bags

  In the streets

  We will wait

  Until the dogs and rats

  Sniff their choices

  We will wait

  Until the street cleaners

  Push their brooms

  And the women offer their wares

  We will hope

  The men are kind

  We will salute

  The moon rising

  We are Sisyphus

  We write the poems

  We paint the portraits

  We sculpt the statues

  We quilt the blankets

  We set the tables

  We make the beds

  We wipe the tears

  We rock the anger

  We hold on to tomorrow

  We push the rock up

  And we gently bring it down

  We were promised

  Only a gift of light

  You keep me

  From being

  Lonely

  A FISH OUT OF WATER

  I know how

  The mermaid

  Feels

  You give up

  Your gills

  So you can’t