* Alchemy Farmhouse *


Fe y Peligro
July 2, 2007, 10:05 am
Filed under: poetry

He called me “Danger” well before I

realized I was in it.

I ached and agonized over

 the daughter I would call Faith

–even though that’s just what I broke,

by loving a man other than

her daddy.

His thick, black dreadlocks

would wrap around my wrists at night.

 *******

Johnny Cash and Bill Monroe sparked

Humboldt’s best in the shadowy A-frame.

Cat-napping in the grow room,

while wisdom teeth emerged,

never sharing their sage advice;

Waiting for a uterine answer,

because, in the North Country

you can’t just go buy a test.

*******

 

Boots collected in brown puddles by drafty doors.

I was stained with wood ash and chipotle,

to anyone who was looking.

My girlfriend and I

filled the salsa and guacamole bowls.

Orangeade sundown spilled on the blouse-blue sky–

backdrop for 13 tables.

I walked home for miles,

too tired of company to hitch.

Just as well that at home,

the man who wanted a child

didn’t want to talk.

I couldn’t listen for his words;

my ears listened for

a heartbeat instead.

Waking from dreams of her,

in the womb of the wood sauna.

Lights out,

breath held,

willing my heart to stop,

and stop hers too.

 *******

Then another good-morning sunrise,

alone.

I scream over breakfast,

Without ears near to hear it.

But the Wailers were louder,

And offered better advice that

“I rule my destiny”.

 *******

So I put on boots,

slate suede

with threadbare laces,

trying not to tip over

into last night’s puddle while I looped,

encircled,

and pulled through again.

The briny floor leftovers mine.

Unaided,

they bled out lonely.

And then that day,

so did I.

Unbound,

without breast milk,

bookends,

babies.

 *******

The man that called me Danger

stopped that all those years ago

when I left the house

that Faith broke.

And this morning he told me

I smelled like Easter candy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Comment so far
Leave a comment



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s



%d bloggers like this: