In the Breath

It's no secret. In the breath of one Miss-issippi I can be _________. My Black and swag-gered portrait palmed like a queen. All this man-made and made in the U.S.A. All thisan impulsive commitment to bandwag-on the river I choke. Your sheet, a rip-pling loose hem. You slab a smile, an excuseto appease. Please. Flowing into night, thiswhite smoke's longevity. This be ante-mortem and posthumous. Though, this be notpreposterous for such a plan as yours.Me and mine. All the ways we redefine.We need no pity pitched civility.We always finna-finna be always.