| Bitterness
I should have known better.
I should have expected the cruel irony
And laughed from the depths of my
Frozen, dead heart.
I should have thought ahead,
To the way I would react.
My own treachery, because I cannot forgive.
Not yet.
I should feel all the guilt and fear
That all the anguish in my heart
Won’t make a difference
At all.
I shouldn’t have been such a fool
To keep hoping and praying
When only a fool would still
Have hope.
Faith is just a demon
In the back of my mind saying
“You shouldn’t have loved him
More than Me.”
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| I feel like I got hit by a truck.  |
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| enkang angMy oasis
Gently quenching cracked lips
Memories and hopes
Stream of light
Buried alive in catacombs
Nursemaid to a little child
With a too important mother
Revival of the final breath
A final sigh
My oasis
Sink and drown
Stirred it up
Muddy when the Tourists come
Little boy hugged the kitten too tight
Hoped too much
My oasis
Poisoned
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| Burning Children
I still see that child’s face
As I threw him toward the flames
I felt remorse
Like when I step on a spider and it struggles.
It smelled like branding cows.
And it just sounded like lambs at the slaughter.
I felt powerful.
For the first time.
My final circumcision.
When I went home, my wife was in the corner.
No one knew she was half.
I told her to make dinner.
She said there was no food.
I hit her.
For the first time.
The children cried.
It sounded like lambs.
She wanted to know where I’d been.
I hit her.
Then I left to get a beer, but the store was empty
Broken everywhere.
Maybe I saw him there.
Someone was laying in the street.
I think he was my neighbor.
I pretended not to notice.
I went back to watch the coals.
A child stood their crying.
She was all alone with tears and ash.
She looked like that face.
I wished someone had thrown her in.
Like a spider.
I picked her up and told her to be quiet.
I walked to the embers and spit.
It made a hissing sound.
Like a demonic serpent.
Like hell.
I looked at the face
And lifted her over the embers.
She cried and I brought her to my chest.
I brought her to my wife
And told her not to teach our new baby any foreign songs.
Today I have a new daughter.
Today I am a murderer. |
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| Woman EnoughI am
Irrational unreasonable.
Didn’t you see
The first letter I ever wrote
To you
About fears
And plastic chains
Tying me to a stake in the ground.
Didn’t I say how
I was
And am
Not so many things that I always
Wished
I was.
And don’t I tell myself
Every Day
How Irrational,
How Unreasonable
I Am.
It is enough that I know
Always
Inside this pretty shell that
I am
Just a Woman.
But I am Woman enough
Not to be called
Irrational unreasonable
By you.
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