Stirring : A Literary Collection

Teri Browning


he was beautiful --
a stained glass window
refracting Northern light
on an angle
but his face was flat
like jesus
and I never knew just how
he kept his skin so slick
no trace of hair
no dark continent
on the globe of his head
he was exotic
as were his friends
and their words meant nothing --
fucking jew-boy bitch
just alien and maybe european
or so I imagined
until the night
we were running from the cops
I tripped and they kept on going
hauled me along for a hundred feet
they laughed when the concrete
burned skin off in layers
like an onion peel
then took turns healing it with cum
milk white as magnolia blossoms
littering a Georgia avenue
because after all
I was probably part nigger anyway --
eyes like chicory nuts
skin parched dark
by an impartial sun

Date of Birth: 3/27/69
Location: Williamsburg, Kentucky
Publications: Zuzu's Petals Quarterly, Unlikely Stories, An Appalachian Country Rag, ThunderSandwich, Peshekee River Poetry, Avatar Review
Awards: 1st runner-up in the Oscar Wilde Poetry Award

Stirring : A Literary Collection

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