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” 17 1 BLACK RENAISSANCE NOIRE in a single windy city weekend