Saturday, January 14, 2017

Mbira Duet

I am in your kitchen,
bigger than a bread box,
formerly sponsored by Gaddafi. 
Come on, 
get up, get up, you lazy sl--iver of early morning moonlight, you.

Look for me.
(I had a key.)
In plain sight, where everyone's eyes go sleepy.
I'm as unstable as rising dough,
follow your lips;
theirs is liturgy in language any fool can understand.

We are the two, the last two
that the local Lothario hasn't fucked. 
You, because you're out of his league--
me, because I am made from African wood that splinters in the dark
and that no sandpaper can smooth. 
The Bantu left their mark on me, as a talisman and ornamental warning.

Have you found me yet?
It's your kitchen, get it together, Princess.
In this bottle over here, the anti-msg
for rendering the over-seasoned tasteless.
Let's start over, just you and me.
Moon Dog and Moon-ette, just two girls who went wrong so many times
we became a brand, with an anthem,

rolling figure 8's together in a math our bodies translate into mbira music.
_______

for Literary Excursions With Kerry at Real Toads. 



 

 

13 comments:

Sioux said...

Jeezle, Shay! I fell in love with too many lines to copy here, fell really hard for the last two in the last stanza, and then came to a screeching stop at the very last line.

Perhaps you'll write a book some day telling us all how you do it... how you do it just about every day...

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I LOVE the Mbira music so much! And love every line of this poem, especially the starting over, Moon Dog and Moon-ette, "just two girls who went wrong so many times we became a brand, with an anthem." Yup. Perfect.

Cloudia said...

You are in a great flow. This ends so strong with a multi-sensory of the instrument's sounds. Very cool. "just two girls who went wrong so many times we became a brand, with an anthem,"

yup

Kerry O'Connor said...

I love your African motifs in this, Shay. And aside from them, your choice of things is so good, they seem to enhance the human experience rather than flatten it out. This is so well done - an instant favourite.

said...

I can't imagine reading a better poem than this. It must suck ass to be as good of a poet as you are.

You'll never get the praise or recognition you deserve, and no one else is in your league.

It's no wonder you're so deliciously arrogant. You must taste like raspberry and honey ice cream.

hedgewitch said...

Striking. I especially love the entire stanza that ends "...because I am made from African wood that splinters in the dark/and that no sandpaper can smooth./The Bantu left their mark on me, as a talisman and ornamental warning."

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

How appropriate that you start in the kitchen! The whole poem is full of lines and images that I feel I can taste and savour.

said...

I love the way you spliced "sliver" to draw out the image of IVing moonlight.

In case anyone else needs to know:
"Gaddafi dominated Libya's politics for four decades and was the subject of a pervasive cult of personality. A controversial and highly divisive world figure, he was decorated with various awards and lauded for both his anti-imperialist stance and his support for Pan-Africanism and Pan-Arabism. Conversely, he was internationally condemned as a dictator and autocrat whose authoritarian administration violated the human rights of Libyan citizens and supported irredentist movements, tribal warfare, and terrorism in many other nations."

Making yourself an instrument and asking her not to play you but to caress music out of you is really an intelligent and brave way of approaching a relationship.

I love this section:
"(I had a key.)
In plain sight, where everyone's eyes go sleepy."

Also this magnificent communion section:
"theirs is liturgy in langheirs is liturgy in language any fool can understand."

Then that whole next stanza.

Also the way "anti-msg" doubles as "anti-message." An anti-message in a bottle. So the kitchen becomes an ocean, but also something from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

Sublime:
" just two girls who went wrong so many times
we became a brand, with an anthem,

rolling figure 8's together in a math our bodies translate into mbira music."

angieinspired said...

Liturgy in any language is my favorite, but I can't be pinned down there. Hey, I had raspberry honey ice cream last night, but it didn't sing to me quite like you in rolling figure 8's...shoot. I will dish up another bowl, another read, another listen. Thanks. I'll start over.

grapeling said...

Shay, seriously, you are so damn gifted, I feel like a klutz. I'd burn my notebooks had I any.

Lynn said...

This is so cool, love that line "theirs is liturgy in language any fool can understand".

Mama Zen said...

"In this bottle over here, the anti-msg
for rendering the over-seasoned tasteless."

That is so unbearably clever that I just can't resist singling it out. Then, the following lines knock it completely over the fence.

razzamadazzle said...

Love, love, love this!