my friend Roberta

1408-poem

LINES: Susan O’Dell

She speaks grits
and does not even
commit y’all to the plural.
i have become a crowd by just standing still
and listening to vowels
become plump and soft.
each one held between consonants
to ripen and gain definition.
now words
spoken with a familiar cadence
plucked from a tow sack
before their weight is measured by prejudice

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