Psychic Cartography
by Basie Allen
lined in palm-smear
& ghost-breath
I stood Potiently
in a toe willing July
with freaks who all freak
in verbatim under the M train
( in a K2 and kim-chi stained air
bodies learn to ferment )
above Kosciusko a train yawned over the already shoe sound of hip hop walking
on back beat of New York
I saw a man take off his high hat and symbol— when a deep sway with braids. so beautiful
car washed down the street
the braids saw me standing there and whispered a humid “HI” with a sun oil voice
undressing out of a pour’d bottle
I tried to walk but fell face first into the braids slipping off the topple side of a teeter heavy
decision— sliding back into a time
where soiled hands dug at the end of pivot queens weaving maps with fingers harp ready
and bigger than spirit. their hands
swung like young girls using DNA strands to dubble dutch thru fields of wild hair—waving off
contests of evil
this poem is for the women I saw, who during slavery, braided maps into and with each other’s hair so when they would run from plantations they always had a reference for where to find freedom and beauty Alternate title… Psychic Cartography
I saw thumbed crossovers sing
“we can and do need each other”
Once over the other
the other over the other
tuft
soft with praise mosaic with promise
I saw their hands myth into future-saluting limbs
saying thank you
I saw women using their clairvoyance
like flash lights for the no doubt
and soon already come darkness
it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen
Basie Allen is a poet and visual artist who lives and is also is from New York City [sic]