The Cassini Division

unsaid words hang
with her empty mind
in vapid thoughts
of chinese poets in satin
understanding them remains elusive
like dirty mississippi cotton
in late summer
picked over
by the negros two hundred years past
and unappreciated
then forgotten in time.
unsaid dreams flying
with her empty mind
in a vacuum between
the broken rings of Saturn
with the genius of a man
some WASP called wap
a he picked over his papers
not realizing he was as fully man
as the negro he didn't even see.