Saturday, May 24, 2014

Poem: Mother's Maiden Name

Mother’s Maiden Name

Espresso counterpunch,
a dream-like fusillade,
the counterinsurgency of righteousness.

We are so wrong  but it’s
hard to tell with these
jackoline teeth.

Come to where the
water whispers from the
mountain, we once were
snow we once were snow.

Dip your pinkie. Your elbow.
That’s who you are.

Thrust down from the milkies we
scour the capillaries of pine,
bleeding green, bleeding sense,
a question that lifts like a
kite falls like a cornstalk asks
for ID and all you can say is
yes I am.

From the collection Fields of Satchmo 
Photo by MJV

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