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What Belongs? A spoken-word poem by James Navé
What Belongs? A spoken-word poem by James Navé At the end of the day, cats sing in red hills. Capture what belongs. Electricity came and went in those mad, mad days, all those years ago, when girls and boys found their way. What belongs? What belongs? Bill and Tinker belong—somewhere in a story, somewhere beyond where I am right now. And I belong, and you belong. Once in a coin-operated laundry, I saw someone I knew. She was the piano player in my church long ago. She looked sad there among the dryers and the washers. Night belongs to those who wander; jazz returns: my thoughts return: I once…
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