Tonight's Poet Corner: California Is Burning
California Is Burning by Belinda Roddie The old man with brown satin skin played the marimba until the cops shooed him away (at least they shooed him and didn't shoot him). I had loved the rhythm and intonations, like I was back on my home island, the waves kissing my ankles as tenderly as a forlorn lover consuming too much salt. Bloated, tired, I slept now under dead oaks, smoking skies, and warmer yesterdays.