_(for Terry McMillan)_
I was a *****
glacier cold solid ice
claws for fingernails
man killing eyes
not myself, not someone else
thirsty for the wild hunt
self-loathing eating away
the way aphids eat the orange tree
no more empathy
where’d that go?
probably jumped off the same cliff
as romance and joy
at the bottom of a cold canyon
swirling in roaring deep water
caught in the current
beneath the surface, far beneath
carried away for three years
no lifejacket, no life
behind reinforced steel
behind the *****
I was a ***** for three years
until the ***** took a scraper to the icebox
climbed over the edge of the canyon
breaking clawed nails on orange clay
****** at the bottom, ****** but alive
swam to the bottom of freezing waters
found my groove
got it back
shot up from the icy foam
_exhaled_
picked ripe fruit from the tree
cut it into four pieces
one for romance, one for joy
one for empathy, one for me
no more aphids on the orange tree
no more glacier, no more hunt
oh yes, the ***** is still here
nourishing my soul with the fruit of knowledge
reminding me don’t let go
don’t let me be all they see
[Notes: This poem was published by _Cadence Collective_: https://cadencecollective.net/2015/01/17/for-3-years/
First published in _Men’s Heartbreak Anthology_.]
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC
_(for Terry McMillan)_
I was a *****
glacier cold solid ice
claws for fingernails
man killing eyes
not myself, not someone else
thirsty for the wild hunt
self-loathing eating away
the way aphids eat the orange tree
no more empathy
where’d that go?
probably jumped off the same cliff
as romance and joy
at the bottom of a cold canyon
swirling in roaring deep water
caught in the current
beneath the surface, far beneath
carried away for three years
no lifejacket, no life
behind reinforced steel
behind the *****
I was a ***** for three years
until the ***** took a scraper to the icebox
climbed over the edge of the canyon
breaking clawed nails on orange clay
****** at the bottom, ****** but alive
swam to the bottom of freezing waters
found my groove
got it back
shot up from the icy foam
_exhaled_
picked ripe fruit from the tree
cut it into four pieces
one for romance, one for joy
one for empathy, one for me
no more aphids on the orange tree
no more glacier, no more hunt
oh yes, the ***** is still here
nourishing my soul with the fruit of knowledge
reminding me don’t let go
don’t let me be all they see
[Notes: This poem was published by _Cadence Collective_: https://cadencecollective.net/2015/01/17/for-3-years/
First published in _Men’s Heartbreak Anthology_.]
© BC Jaime 2015 || IG: @B.C.Jaime
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