Poetry - Issue 08 | February 2010

Four poems by Mahogany L. Browne

Brooklyn Tongue I

The men at the bodega say good morning to
the women with black slacks. Sometimes, they
wink at the young girls with tight jeans. Their
eyes scan the starched school uniform shirts,
white and crisp. But when the men come, they
scowl and pour piping coffee into cardboard cups.
Their lips purse into a disapproving huff. Their eyes
avert, then cut, like switchblades.

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About the author

Mahogany Browne, host and curator at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, is a Cave Canem Fellow who facilitates performance poetry and writing workshops throughout the country. She owns an on-line marketing and distribution company for poets. Mahogany is editor of His Rib: Stories, Poems & Essays by HER and author of Destroy Rebuild & Other Reconstructions of the Human Muscle. She has released five LPs, including the live album, Sheroshima. These Brooklyn Tongue poems are from the forthcoming collection, SWAG (Penmanship Books).

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