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Jessica Holter

Hotter Than July

Scarcely through the noon hour,
she needs another shower

She is hot.

Tracking the concrete
of Motor City pride,
looking for a boi
to turn her out,
for a while,
Cool her down
with seasoning
only the educated
tongue can bring

Bartender pour something cold in her rainbow cup
so she can forget home and become resistant to time

Her desire is hotter than July.

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What if Don’t Nobody Come?

What if Don’t Nobody Come?
A Poem for the Pre-Show Jitters

You think all the theatrical heavy hitters
never had the jitters?
Think twice.

If don’t nobody come to see you perform tonight
It’s all right.
Your words will not change
You will not lose resonance
The stage will not cave in and fall to the earth’s core
Burning you alive until you die
In a moratorium of simile and prose
You will not fail
Unless you fail yourself

If no one shows
It’s OK
I promise

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Sunday Afternoon in Chocolate City

It is Sunday afternoon in Chocolate City.
I only came to visit,
but I drank of a bittersweet brown elixir
and came down with an allergic reaction to leaving
My endorphins got all swollen
with the spiritual notion
of Black Love

It is Sunday afternoon in Chocolate City
My lover is on bended knee beside me

We had been fighting over nothing in particular,
Perhaps just because the thing between us is so strong
We barely have room for our own selves.
So we pray.
Pray for love
Pray for strength
Each for someone else
Then for one another
Together we Pray

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Saturday Mournings

Saturday
Mournings

Those Saturday mornings
I pushed my bed
Away from the wall
Hoping my sister would not hear
Hoping my foster
Momma
Would not hear

Hoping the old wood would
Not squeak or crackle
Too loud
And tell of my desire
Tell of my weakness
Tell of a
Little Girl’s dream
To see her
Mother

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