day 4, poem4 - persecute

Persecute

for Aja, Baz, Lauren


1.

When I am attacked, I feel

a humming inside my chest.

Watch.


It does not come

from the throats of the birds,

there, but from their wings


beating, beating, hard – a machine

revving with all my love

for you. Oh come, come,


to kill me. I haven't

the best of guts for protecting

myself from the wounds


you have to carry, carry.


2.

On my way back from the prison

today, I flew.

Truck rumble on my left, freeway

on my right.

My body, a bass clef bent

deep over the handlebars

of my bicycle, head tucked

in like that – the birds

there, sing and sing and sing.

They carry your name, your name.


3.

Every morning I awake

I stare and stare into the mirror

until I can look myself in the face.


Every morning – this; this is what

it takes to be me – Nobody

chastizes me as much as I do.


I look until I find something

familiar, something to make my heart,

slow – Some mornings, nothing


doing. I can't find what I need

and then ; only prayer, only prayer.


4.

To steady yourself on your knees

hold the abdominals tight

tuck in the buttocks – outstretch


the arms, palms turned up

hold the shoulders back.

Chant a mantra, a psalm


Chant something that will begin

in the belly, migrate down to the knees

and wheeling, like a bird, arrive


eventually in the chest, and startled

awaken the hum there and fly

out your open mouth.


Call it song, call it argument

call it blessing that when attacked

you become more beautiful


you become heraldic

in your bearing, in your mouth

in your throat, the humming


nothing but song

nothing but song