you so woman (for anya, r.f.)

when ya purple heels hit concrete
afros swing
cool jazz hot baby
strollin by cry amen

so holy
preachas stutta
thighs so righteous
pews jump up n catch the spirit n
hymns speak in tongues

so sweet
bees leave the daffodils behind
for honey you make table sugar taste sour n
Mrs. Butterworth sho can’t find a damn thing to say
when you around

looking so good
cockroaches ask you to step on em
sos they can see heaven
and after they die n

you love ya people so much
if you was on pilgrimage
the Sahara Desert would run to the Atlantic
jus to make sure you don’t get thirsty n
camels would kiss you for choosin they back

but Africa don’t got you
we do n glad too

so girl
you jus keep on
making the sunset procrastinate n
givin the rainbows a complex
you a silk earthquake
you a velvet hurricane
n girl you so woman
I be damn
If you don’t put a full moon to shame.

[ruth forman]



When a man is in love
how can he use old words?
Should a woman
desiring her lover
lie down with
grammarians and linguists?

I said nothing
to the woman I loved
but gathered
love’s adjectives into a suitcase
and fled from all languages.

(nizar qabbani)

sustainable co-op healthcare

a beautiful example to translate/incorporate/learn from: article and slideshow

April 26, 2009
City Visible

The Doctor in the Kitchen

DR. DAVID ORES pays $700 a month for an apartment in a low-income housing complex on Avenue B on the Lower East Side, owns two Harleys and has on his left arm a tattoo of a naked woman wearing a pink cowboy hat.

Dr. Ores is also a physician who runs a nonprofit health care cooperative for city restaurant workers that he sees as a model for how national health care could work. The undertaking, which he began last summer, is particularly timely as President Obama contemplates an overhaul of the nation’s health insurance system.

“It’s like a food co-op,” Dr. Ores, 51, said of the project. “Except it’s health care.”

Under the plan, he charges each restaurant a dollar each month for every seat in the establishment and pools the money. In return, any employee from those restaurants can visit him free of charge, whether for a cut finger or the flu.

The need is acute: A 2005 study by the New York State Restaurant Association reported that almost 75 percent of the city’s restaurant workers — about 120,000— have no health insurance.

Dr. Ores began a test run of the program last summer, and with 15 restaurants now signed up, he plans to expand further into the Lower East Side and to Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

I first met Dr. Ores last summer. At the time, I was uninsured and in need of a checkup, so a friend suggested that I stop by the doctor’s office, at 15 Clinton Street. As is the case with the 60 to 70 people he treats on average each week, he simply asked that I pay whatever I could afford.

He is able to manage financially, he said, because the Lower East Side People’s Mutual Housing Association, the organization that runs the buildings where his office and apartment are located, offers reduced rents.

And he is excited about the future of operations like his.

“The function of us is to keep people out of the emergency room and from coughing in your salad,” he said. “It’s a little microcosm of how national health care could work.”