as the earth cradles water, we find our percentage; On Forgetting/part 2
2019; Feminist Studies; Volume: 45; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês
10.1353/fem.2019.0026
ISSN2153-3873
Autores Tópico(s)Ecocriticism and Environmental Literature
Resumo372 Feminist Studies 45, no. 2/3. © 2019 by Kei Kaimana as the earth cradles water, we find our percentage Kei Kaimana describe the earth as breathing, picture the image, a twirling orb, a textured surface captured, at a distance, outside gravity, somewhere in outer space, let her catch feelings and other, smaller worlds, cradle them within misty ozone, hold us to her in our sameness, our waters, our oceans dip candles into flames, honor her roundness, make the right hand fire, now the body is made up of sixty percent water, one-seventh percent inferno, flicker and blow the cinder into a glass bowl, it floats, a flower petal, it sinks, coal, it is, in essence, a guide on the surface of the earth, water moves in rhythm, our seventy-one percent, the rest is soil, a compilation of decadence and decay, Kei Kaimana 373 emerge from smoke and glass, and rest, the ocean is ninety-seven-percent of the earth’s water, and we have made it through, salt and coal and steel and glass and flower petal and ash and land coordinates of unrecognizable, of unnamed, of bury it, of here, hold out your tongue, stretch it against tumbled stone, elongate it to wrap around your chest, your neck, your throat, until you cut it off to speak, say no, swallow the pacific to home it, swig your internal atlantic, do it again, no, again and again, no, until no is rocking against your hips you own, become selenite, erode, ultramarine your blood from lapis, chunk it, betray your skin with amethyst, shatter it, 374 Kei Kaimana become obsidian, become tiger’s eye, become smoky quartz, become pearl, curve back to sea, a starfish, a salt star [The following poems on the next two pages are rotated for readibility.] Kei Kaimana 375 On Forgetting to strangers i am not allowed to work or eat donuts work and sugar can’t be recommended by medical professionals grandfather had a mango tree if you correctly pronounce my name call in a break or leave there have been contradictions at the time of questioning i think one early-childhood summer i climbed the tree i tell friends my parents were spiritual because i care how my friends feel about things at six i went to work to one lover my grandfather was jazz a musician on tourist boats for haole folk to another i won’t remember my background everyone has died i worked the men before six i never told my last lover my heart beats irregular it works my father’s enterprises would’ve been felonies & a cow-eyed mother’s face and you forget my love the picture is what is left of a name that isn’t and/or the picturespell my name for a corpse shed across state lines there was a mango tree 376 Kei Kaimana part 2 I sense the child’s ruffled smock candied early mornings licked lips t hey suck sweetness & I hum darkness in indecipherable tongues spring awake before daybreak I eat as many mangoes as I can in one sitting between now and the next incident I will eat mangoes squeezing uneven roundness around a pit to pulp the insides peeling open the skin gently with teeth to find the flesh against my face ...
Referência(s)