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. 

 

 

Lives Of The Saints

I'm actually pretty quiet.

Honest.

It's just my head keeps coming crashing down through the rest of me like a

Bowling ball down the front staircase;

And if that's not gauche enough,

It's got ma name on it.

It looks like

I won't get that part

In Swan Lake after all--

Never mind all the parts I was handed and spat upon

Cos I got no more manners

Than a pig at the State Fair.

My body has played dirty tricks

All my life,

But the better part of me

Floats like a lantern on a lily pad

Inside--

Just try getting in if I don't want you there.

The entrance is piled high with bones.

Last night I dreamt

That the hour was late

And I was far from home.

Well,

That's life.

I have my moments, though--

Mostly I flail

As if possessed by cats in a sack

And time is the river;

But in a moment of perfect bliss

When I am,

For example,

Egging my neighbor's mail box,

I am Athena with her bolts.

I am Artemis with her arrows.

I am hanging out with God at Danny's Coffee Shop,

And when the cops come in

Asking where have you been?

God vouches for me.

"She's been right here with me, boys," she tells them just as sweet as honey rolling off a warm biscuit,

And I whisper,

"Oh You

Are so cute

When You lie!"

_________

This poem is dedicated to Dulce and to Mama Zen. Danny's? Three-ish?

Kitty, Kitty

I am quiet,

Like a feather falling--

As you drone on and on, oblivious.

I am soft

Like a toy.

But look!

I just won't stay on my shelf;

And who knows

Where I may have crept off to?

Shhh, shhh, shhh...

You need to stop talking now--

You've been careless.

See how far the lighted windows are behind you?

A woman I may allow

To scratch under my chin--

My eyes gone thin like crescent moons;

But you,

If you don't get a clue and stop chattering,

Saying, "I think this!"

And, "What you must understand is that..."

I will get up softly.

I will approach you quietly,

And wait.

Who knows

What one so soft, so quiet, so stealthy,

Might be thinking?

Still your foolish tongue and try to imagine

What she might be kind enough to teach you

If provoked.

__________