NYU Black Renaissance Noire Fall 2015 Volume 15.2 | Page 19
pearls, apologies, endless apologies
to the fine poet who wrote this
for me, my doppelgänger—
my poetry food,
nourishment, sustenance, one-a-day,
one every day
each of his arms is a stanza,
each hair on his body is punctuation
—the only one who could replace me,
compass needles pointing to lovers,
science of poetry,
Mr. Higginson becoming true north
somehow resisting magnetic north
my gateway to bliss
kept for too long undercover.
This monument
this testament
is forever, and acted out religiously,
ideally
and perfectly
an “eucalyptus octopus” from Mr. Higginson’s poem, “Tuning Forker Gyrl”
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BLACK RENAISSANCE NOIRE
in a single windy city weekend