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A Shell in a Minor Key

A Shell in a Minor Key

A Shell in a Minor Key

A Poem by Benjamin Carson

She left she said because I didn’t make her loins sing.

She was a singer-songwriter, after all, and needed

material. With me, nothing. She lost her voice.

Couldn’t even hum. A ringing began in her ears.

She said, when she slept beside me, a white noise

washed over her as though she were drowning.

I said, well maybe I’m a conch shell; if you put your

ear up to me you’ll see I’m your muse. She laughed,

plucked at my ear lobes, drummed my nose, and

strummed my lips. “You’re a shell alright,” she said,

“in a minor key,” and walked out the door.

God I loved that woman.

Of Age

Of Age

My Mother's Turtle

My Mother's Turtle