the end of invariance

 

 

 

Little girls kick their legs

when they sit on the couch with plastic covers.

(We haven't had enough fun in this life)

 

My sister kicked hers and now her man

kicks her. And she runs back home to Mom

as if it was 67 again, after the riot,

 

where people looked out of magnified peep

holes in the door that made skinny men in beret's

into large centaurs,

 

as if a fire could be built in the vestibule and

we could dance the Mercurochrome dance

on my sisters eyelid, until the giant man

went away and we could take deep breaths again.

 

I can remember wearing knee socks with those

awful orbit stripes, but the days were never

young or innocent.

Reviews

[Cleotis Cullen Bryant]

Real life takes place in the context of real lives; it's no small feat to be able to place the lives of real folk in the context of the so-called important events without getting too caught up in the textbook history or getting a bit saccharrine. This is more than a bit impressive.

[caesarkreshen]

very interesting. I like the three line opening and the three line end. I don't think the middle part is bad, but it is not as potent or perfect. Some stray words.

Still, was a nice easy read.

[Marie Anzalone]

To tell a story of such magnitude in so few lines and words and words is the hallmark of an amazing talent. You have a quietly powerful voice, and you have something to say. It transcends you- even the simple act of reaching out in empathy to your sister, and weavign into its proper larger context; not pitying or victimizing but simply understanding- it pulls us into such a larger context. A world swirling madly after it is bumped by something that sets it wobbling, trying to right itself again. Simply masterful. I often felt like I could never have a real voice in modern poetry, for not knowing the diverse inner-city street hardened experience. Readign you, I realize that our childhoods were not so different after all, in the ways that count the most. It is an honor to read words as fine as yours, dear friend.

[SHEEMA HUQ]

Such a tragic tale and I sense your distain, though this could have been a sidewalk conversation, ( significant tales I think do often get told in this oral, everyday manner) very well done, - 'food for thought' as they say. Having said this, you tell this tale as one who is reminiscing, every word carefully placed. I admire greatly your courage to delve in to your memories and to share, thank you my friend.

[Tree]

Evocative. You keep impressing me with your ability to reach back, and bring to us these incredibly moving moments. It's always the little things in those moments that stick; and loom large enough to become a part of us forever.