Winter 1994 • Vol. XVI No. 1 PoetryJanuary 1, 1994 |

December Thirty-First

I say this year no different From any other, so we party, the poets And physicists arrive bearing Cheeses, chile, sesame noodles, Meats, mints, whatever-- Champagne--Filling up the sideboard, Filling the house up, filling it. At midnight everyone kisses, My man replenishes His wicked punch, My mother folk dances, In the kitchen they pass a joint, Then after that they put The hard rock on, And I dressed In black tights and a borrowed Black and red China silk jacket Am that rolling stone, that Natural woman No different, no Different, and by 3 A.M. ifThe son of my blood And the wild student of my affection Should choose to carry on, if My goddess daughter with her satiric Stringbean boyfriend Tuck themselves into the bunk Bed of her girlhood, may they hear me Mutter in my sleep, good Luck and happy New year.

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