monsters and other silent creatures

watch me

dive into the river running

faster at night

chasing the moon

black body on the banks

hands on her waist

***

—what?

You afraid to mess up your hair?

—It ain’t my hair im worried about

who going to dry me off?

who will rub my opal scales

to skin again?

—is that a poem?

—no. Its a question.

—girl, you aint no mermaid

***

a quiet splash

night swallows her legs

water swallows her tears

and i swallow her

fins and all

***

aint heard no one recite a poem

in a long time

no one hold my hand

and call me a liar with a kiss

no one whistle with water

pushing my head down home

luck broke

as i stumbled over the bed frame

its skinny legs cracking

under the hard belly

cant get a decent meal here

and all the girls are whores

under the veils

aint nothing but a g-string and pasties

they sacrifice their girls

cause they too afraid

of the abortion

man, im telling you

under those skirts

aint nothing but whiskers and fur

fritter away their days

licking each others tales

between the nightmares

i think of you

between words

in sunday prayer

the wind blows

white ants off the trees

papa died

in a town too small

for a wal-mart

he couldnt figure out

how to live

so the world stopped spinning

just long enough

for him to inhale

never blowing out

i knew he was dying

but didnt tell anyone

not even my girl

nothing of old white man

screeching in the dark cause

the light had refused him passage

she lived inside snail shells

black mud

the glitter of fire flies

but there is more to life

than just life so i shrugged

at my fate and went to war

my sorry just swinging

in the breeze she don’t take

my calls and i dont bother calling

anymore

the air, sticky like saliva

stuck to the walls

that summer

papa talked to me

like dying slowly

he forgot the rest of the world

lives

+++

he whispered afraid

to disturb the houseflies

reciting the last rites

on his forehead

+++

behind my navel

a soft patch

where papa used to punch

to toughen me up

every soldier,

a living hero,

reincarnating the dead

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no, i dont watch the news

nor skim time magazine

and i aint going to start now

only read the sports section

in the paper

when my picture is in it

i dream about going back

to that town

with a new pair of shoes

shiny as polished bones

+++

before iraq

i knew the name saddam

insurgent

a wobbling globe

bible lands

milk and honey

tigris and euphrates

+++

Papa said he used to think

love made the world go round

but he found out hard

its all about money

+++

teacher says love

dont make the planet rotate

but gravity does

+++

i say

soldiers push the planet

on its axis

+++

i traded molasses and butter

spread on fresh bread

for the sharp fold

of a starched shirt

+++

like atlas

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she carries books under her arm

sits at the river

to be alone

doesnt play games

speaks what she wants

aint no promise rings

in that.

***

i never belonged to her

she never to me

we like two cats

circling each other

but my papa from the sky

her grandpa from the sand

we met in the red horizon

sounds pretty in a poem

but in real life

a black girl

who still believes in love

doesnt know who i am.

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I wore a white suit

and bare feet

mama shook her head

so i slipped into papa’s shoes

paler than my feet

and sat in the black limo

as it meandered to the church yard

his body hung

in a box in red dirt

surrounded by plastic roses

and bloodless thorns