My Africa

It began with God in Africa and became a fraud
as the bloom of anointing wore off
and weeds grew tall.

There was now no more joining of shores.
Instead, they issued competing calls.
I was left to drift on the waves.

Now I see a different America.

She has large legs and can bless with a curse or a smile.
Dark eyes are patient and knowing
while between her thighs are memories of gladness
and pain.

Her mouth cries out her sorrow while passion grows.

It takes time for conciliation,
but when love talks,
the talk by itself is a comfort
and the touch of hands
while lying naked together
lets life expand like a drug
throughout mind and body.
We join in sleep in the comforting warmth of each other.

That's a thing to keep
and renew and reward and remember.
It's a long, long reach that carried dark slaves to this shore
and a greater reach
that drove lying ministers back.

Like a honey-trap, hypocrisy was slathered with love.

But the slaves fought back
and wrapped arms and legs all around us
and drew us in,
we sinners who knew nothing but sin,
and gave sin for sin,
but this time with love and great kindness.