within the muted flight of daybreak, inside its leaked trembling light 289

  Woke up crying the blues; 39

  words & sounds that build bridges toward a new tongue 269

  words are dice thrown across floors, 450

  writin’ poems 156

  yellow banana 616

  the yellow tongue flame spit out 598

  yesterday in new york city 67

  you begin with a sound wrapped around a syllable, or syllables 294

  you can catch a clean number 7 subway train from 42nd street, 571

  you danced on wing tips of raunchy humor, richard, 341

  you have come to this space of light & pure beauty 388

  you slipped down into this world, porter 194

  you were born in bessemer, alabama, jack whitten— 552

  your lover’s eyes speak 284

 

 

  Quincy Troupe, Duende

 

 

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