The Sallman Head (Round 2)

Let us workshop this poem about a young girl’s introspective contemplation about love as she watches all the black bodies around her get whipped around by the third person of the holy trinity.

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The Sallman Head

Queasy from the stomping
black wailers everywhere, 
her dad a writhing babbler greasy 

for Jesus (dirty-blond hair 
aflow), the girl—apart, as if 
pew-picked too by the Ghost—

faced a guilt long preverbal
in her heart: she would marry
only a white man (like Him).

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This poem is unpublished

Photo: pinterest.com/pin/371828512965323853/