For Saundra by Nikki Giovanni

i wanted to write

a poem

that rhymes 

but revolution doesn’t lend 

itself to be-bopping

then my neighbor

who thinks i hate

asked  - do you ever write

tree poems - i like trees

so i though

i’ll write a beautiful green tree poem

peeked from my window

to check the image

noticed the school yard was covered

with asphalt

no green - no trees grow

in manhattan

then, well, i though the sky

i’ll do a big blue sky poem

but all the clouds have winged

low since no-Dick was elected

so i thought again

and it occurred to me

maybe i shouldn’t write

at all

but clean my gun

and check my kerosene suppply

perhaps these are not poetic

times

at all

From Black Feeling, Black Thought, Black Judgment