Dedicated my ecclectic array of HomeGirls

swirling amid daydreams and banana peals

sasha sits still, silently

in a window seat

reading on beauty

and love

humming to the tune of the air being pressed

through a thin crack in the window

buzz goes the bee

buzz buzz goes the yellow honey bee

annoyingly, a retarded girl is talking to the

back of her head and

Sasha wonders if the mentally chanllenged can comprehend

that her color is a rinse and not permanent high lights

cause god forbid

if she was trying to be white.

this morning, unlike all the others,

she can't get the funny notion out of her head

that yes

she does have cute ears

and although her father's nose was wide

and fat

that's cute too

and so are her baby-like fingers

and vienna toes

and thick calves that he once was so in love with

sigh, no buzzzz

she sits silently, besides the humming of course

buzz

and courageously caresses her chubby belly

You are accepted chub – for you're cute too

she watches her breasts, bumping

up and down

ever so slightly, as the bus bumps

up and down

over neglected city streets and dead animals

they're cute too, her breasts

not the other things

the young intellectual.

across the aisle

3 rows up and sitting in the

aisle seat.

who carried a messenger bag, wore some sort of un-extraordinary jacket

and insisted that he was reading,

listened caustiously to the conversation

the two young women in the back were having

or at least it was between the

young woman and the other woman's kitchen

loving you ooo

is easy cause your be-u-tee-ful

OOOOooooo

your hair is pretty ma'am

Pri-T

betcha he thinks so

betcha he does

he does ma'am

he does

Who?

the young intellectual

or the jock with a tongue that might as well

be that pink vibrator you got for your birthday

(he was right that night wasn't he? can't no body do that like him?)

or the first love, who will always have you,

like a crackhead,

searching for that first high

or the frat boys – who have all sort of turned into one big party Hop

or rico "motherfuckin" suave

who thought he was un regalo de Dios

for all us sees-tahs who couldn't get what we wanted from a

Black man

or the new guy

who, with all his shining-like-sunshine potential,

is hopeless in his efforts to break free from a lost love

or is it you

reading this poem, of sorts,

assuming that you know Sasha well because

you share coffee and pb&j sandwiches every-other Tuesday

or caressed her behind her ear

or tickled her sides

or her lower back, just above her ass

cause u knew it would make her giggle and shake and horny

or smiled at her while she was making

the best

sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich you ever had

or because you saw god on her ceiling

or because she fell in love with not only you, but your son

because she made you feel like,

for the brief moment she massaged your back, or whispered your name in your ear,

French-kissed your dick,or made you a "special" meal,

being a Black man was the best thing ever

a true regalo de Dios

you assumed you knew her,

you assumed that you must love her

But Our Sasha

sits buzzing

ignoring the retarded and

envying the intellectual.

She believes that daydreams are

our way of translating our past and future.

going over her to-do list for the 7 ½ time,

trying to figure

out if she left her keys in the house for the 12^th time

and enjoying her secret hiatus to the real world

buzzzzzzzzz

I got love for my homegirl Sasha

sashay my sees-tah sasha

turn up the fiasco

and drip some scott down in your soul

climb atop some hill

and let luther make that house a home

cause they all got love for you Sasha

Buzz buzz

Sasha refuses to sting back