Saturday, June 25, 2011

Fun with Grandparents (at three years old)

Shoe:
(Remember you still get your shoes on the wrong foot every single time, in complete refutal of the laws of probability.) Wander over to where your grandparents are hanging out, with just one shoe dangling from your finger. Nonchalantly ask your over-eager Thatha for help getting it on. After he does, and offers to help you with the other one too, say dismissively:
I don't need your help anymore, Thatha, I know which foot the other one goes on. Thanks.
Teacher:
Test the waters to see if your newly-arrived grandparents are more cooperative than your other family members about turning on the TV at your command. After your grandparents have refused to turn on the TV for you, play a few games of Connect Four, then casually suggest that you play pretend school. Claim the part of teacher before anyone else does. Then demand:
Turn on the TV now. I'm the teacher, you MUST listen to me. Do it NOW.

Friday, June 24, 2011

LOCUS

There's drumbeat of dislike
irreconcilable conversation

I'm a shapeshifter, so
I misrepresent myself.

Blue and dark as it is
shadows are darker still

I'm a shoplifter, I take home
the whole look in my head

In calm, strange indifference
an arched, architectural back

cheeks are shattered shields
hair falls: spiral as argument

_

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Birth Story

A foot
is made of inches
they have two each
and measure two

there is a cunt
made of muscle
I have gained:
stretchmarks

as though children
once imprisoned
have clawed
their way through

my body thins
into elastic sticks
and can now slip
under doors

Babies begin to cry
my mind stoops again
in pain and memory.
Babies cry; I identify.


Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Teacher

Sleep, Arjuna
the lines of your palm
cast shadows;
children dream of you.

War is indefensible
is honorable war
and riddled plain
on Kurukshetra

Human. You are.
suffer undisciplined
dilemma. Speak, Arjuna
in this hairy garment of skin

divine animal
O individual
rebirth .  act .
the practical

hold the world,
old and fluted
warrior (for yet
another minute)

[fragment]
__

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Mothers Lie

Mothers never lie
except when they are five years old
and grandmother has told her

not to tell great-grandfather
(who thinks movies are wasteful)

that they have spent the afternoon
at the movies

Catching herself humming
(and at 60 she still hums)
 incubating the lie

in great-grandfather's room
she nurses her breath wild eyed

and announces willingly:
O Grandfather, we really

didn't at all 
go to the movies
this afternoon.

_

Monday, June 20, 2011

What She Said (1)

(inspired by the Kuruntokai)

Crossed, she is cross
lovers' arms are tigers
they race forest fires

they say, companions:
her community of accomplices
girlfriends, girl-friends, girls, friends

_

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Father's (Fathers' Day)

Yesterday your ears worked just fine
today your whining hearing aid died
ancient and foreign all at once
is your silence.
Now you hold my face
between your hands

and watch my mouth
speak;
then you write
your blessings
with your lips
on my forehead

Let me hear
be your child
interpret your genes,
perform your decrees
aspire: sishya as student
spiral: suta as bard

[fragment]
_

catching up

Wow, did I really not expect to come back? The (human) kids and I are supposed to head to my Cousin K's wedding reception in NJ later th...