Devil Mutant Child

I also want to point out that these poems, just about all of them were written in text messages to the man I love, My Thing:  thingdom reigns


Just want to let you know that another poem from Shawsheen Memorial Broom Society 


may be seen online, a portion of  “Devil Mutant Child” as published in Plume 


these words:

Thylias Moss from Devil Mutant Child  as in Plume 


A poem of hair.


Mr in Bob's hat

(I am wearing the hat of  my Thing, my favorite hat, by the way; he is the Pizazz in my life):Thylias and Bob (Higginson) in Chicago


My mother, from the south in the 1930s grew up ashamed of color, of whatever drew attention to her societal unacceptability, her inferiority, lack of formal education, and all associated trappings:  worse of all, her Africanized hair texture.  How she suffered, her own siblings with lighter skin, calling her the “Little Black One” long before “black” had been reclaimed as a badge of pride.  She worked as a maid, serving her superiors, and still having to honor these white women with the complexion and hair she still craves, often dressed in their cast-offs.

No matter what, her hair revealed she was the lowest, as she calls it, that to this day, she tries to eradicate by frying her hair and using all those skin lightening creams.  None leave a permanent transformation which is what she really wants.  Makes me cry every time, my own mother who never learned to reclaim these signs of identity as sources of pride.

She vowed her child would not suffer what she did, despised by paler ones with straighter, “better” hair, “good” hair, for that is what I have, direct inheritance from my pale, mixed race, father and his completely non-black father, an immigrant from India, half Caucasian —yes, she used that term about her own daughter, as I had what she lacked.  Yes, she was jealous of me, used to hit me, in efforts to slap the superiority out of me, but I was too much like my father who refused to hit anything that should be loved. I understand what she saw in my father, but I do not know what he saw in her.

To her, the only writers worth anything were those who wrote books of the bible.  She condemned me to hell, that Christian woman, every chance she got.

In this sense, she who knew nothing about facts of genetics, did her best to have a child who would not suffer these disgraces of inferiority as I would have the badge  of respect and better treatment, decent treatment, simple respect:  college educated with Good Hair.


She cannot love me.

Philtrum poems

I am happy to say that I will be sending one of two “Philtrum” poems for Shawsheen Memorial Broom Society to Richard Krawiec for Jacar.  I asked the editor if it was okay if I sent love poems, and he said fine, as long as they are not too Tin Pan Alley.

as in: 


No secret that I adore the Philtrum of my Thing, and I went searching for a Philtrum Lovers group I could  join,  and I happened upon this blog about elevation of the Philtrum

written by one Matthew Dicks, now one of my Facebook friends, as I must be friends with anyone who Loves Philtrums as much or more than I do.


I wrote my two Philtrum poems for my Thing  –in text messages to him, as I am quite the admirer of his Philtrum, and it is visible below:  Maybe you can understand why I love his Philtrum so much (I stare at it for hours, as  he knows because I have told him just how irresistible his Philtrum is –at least for me! He is also my primary collaborator, by the way. And I Love him so very much!

b's philtrum-02

My two Shawsheen Memorial Broom Society Poems  about My Thing’s  wonderful Philtrum are: 

Shawsheen Standard Equipment Fuses




Shawsheen Philtrum Temptation




and one of these should appear soon in Jacar.


Still in Love

Sent more poems from the collection to Vassar College where I did something considered remarkable, gave the Elizabeth Bishop Lecture a few years ago, and I built a website for this visit, “The MidHudson Taffy Company” 


When I returned home, I converted the entire lecture into sound sculpture which may be heard here 


and here.


I was delighted by every aspect of that happening, that event.  Piughkeepsie will never be the same.

Two album covers for the sound sculpture


and my Thing even has a quote pin this website; I put it there, before Mr. Holman and I became involved.  I used to tease him about visiting the  the Taffy website, and his quote is on this page of the Taffy website 


My son was there and everything, so good for him to see his mama in this  context: ANSTED AND THYLIAS READING IN CHCAGO Continue reading “Still in Love”