He had got, finally,
to the forest
of motives. There were no
owls, or hunters. No Connie Chatterleys
resting beautifully
on their backs, having casually
brought socialism
to England.
Only ideas,
and their opposites
Like,
he was really
nowhere.

(C) Amiri Baraka
01/23/2019


Best Poems of Amiri Baraka

• Short Speech To My Friends
• Tender Arrivals
• Wise I
• Incident
• Monday In B-flat
• Notes For A Speech
• Legacy
• An Agony. As Now.
• Like Rousseau
• In Memory Of Radio
• Preface To A Twenty Volume Suicide Note
• A Poem For Speculative Hipsters
• Balboa, The Entertainer