on the rocks or neat?

there is no such thing as casual conversation amongst poets. everything is fodder for the next poem. which is what happened when i was (in my mind) casually IMing with barbara jane. next thing i knew, a poem challenge was dropped.
here are the results…

a hex on the man who stole my leather jacket

if you had asked, i would have shared
the cancion negra of my mc jacket
shown you where the folds along the elbow
run deeper than the dervishes of african dancers

placed mineral sweat on your palms
blend your calluses in circular motion
till the brittle regains elasticity

but that wasnt where the song lied

my song would have found you
in the notes that exists
in every lamento

you searched for the riddle
of my ink even as my calculated
pauses gave you all the answers

as i left to find us tangerines,
you played insistent fiddler
and in your rage for knowledge
disappeared with my black song

for you, querido, i only wish
that it shields you from the rain
and holds back the cold
because a thief's heart
is very much like the poet's
only without the comfort
of silence

a hex on the man who stole my leather jacket
the 'on second thought- keep it' dub mix

last night, i lost my fool mind
walked down the alleys of my childhood
not looking for trouble
more like keeping
an appointment with it
handing over a pillowcase
that held your pictures,
some of my own hair
torn from the root,
and the toothbrush
left behind

the santera asked for sunflowers
i told her it wasnt that kinda spell
handed her alcohol i fermented
myself with molasses
and cake from your birthday
she nodded and said no more
walked away with these last
pieces of a mirror
i no longer see myself in

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1 Comment

  1. I found the link on MiPo, but the print is sooo small and against a dark background that I can’t read it. Darn.

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