This was written by Jessie - - - - - - - - - - - - - Baby Girl Glommering like a cat, you've got things to say You're a noisy little thing We should slap you. We should make you red It was too late, and you ran through the screen door. You found boys to paint you colors You wanted molds to pour in You wanted walls for all four hands I remember the store where I bought you You were small, and through the soil you pushed up, A white head dirtied with birth. No pink ribbons could hold your hair Only black arms could confine you, could pull you to the water's edge In the sand we washed you We took the whore from your mouth We returned you to the earth like melted glass. Your breasts were eager, you thighs were flashing, signaling white But we buried them, We took your spread legs and filled them up with gritty mother. We cut off your sinning hands And sent them to the sea. Our baby girl, she was born mouth open heels to the sky. We couldn't stand the clammer. We quieted her with clay. - - - - - - - - - - - - -