Atlanta Aphrodite

She puts honey in her hair like it’s her wedding day
for the bees, for the boys, for her father
all golden and dripping, champagne-sweet
lightningbug lady and queen of June.

They call her Dainty Feet, Sweetheart of Main Street
she likes to dance on the village green in choir circles
singing “I’m holy, I’m heavenly, I’m His.” All the men
watch as her ankles move like wind-ripple water.

She ain’t dancing for them, though, she dances for more
than Man can touch, higher places, where the redhawk soars
for she is tall as mountains, summer goddess, Elphame Queen.
They ran out of names to call her after a while.

In fever-sweet dreams the boys pray to her, play with her
they can never remember the color of her eyes –
if they’re blue, hazel, green, or teddy bear brown
but they’re shimmering as Kentucky whiskey, skipping sun.

The truth is she came to us long ago on moonbeam magic
and the gods will take her away just the same, all flickering light
bloom of honeysuckle and baby’s breath, timbrel of angel choir
the Southern Belle tolls, crows fly, the boys remember.

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Daddy Lessons

You carried me on your back when I was spring-shoot green, play place swingdust, just learning that men could bite.

The first boy I loved wore leather, was cruel, violent, you were still on the periphery – if only I had known that first grade Clydes rot come elder years.

The second boy I loved kicked soccer, nothing like dark sephulchres, all sun – that fizzled out like a sparkler for obvious reasons.

I’m the kind that wants coffee black but always takes it with cream, if only I had known you were coffee grounds and wine dregs – bitter, windswept herbs.

I didn’t really love the first or second boy, or any Raj or rainman that came after.  I was too young – see?

I lie like you.

All along I worshipped you, who carried me in arms like sleep, who told me galaxies would bend under your claw, who was both lion and serpent, angel and beast.

Darkness, clad in starlight.

I can’t remember why you came the first time.  I was cradle-bound, scared of shadows, terrified of ghost children and flesh-rip hellhounds.

The first time you said “I love you,”  I cried.

The first time you hurt me, plucked blood and innocence, I wept.

When you demanded my love, and I burned for you, I screamed.

(In my weaker moments, I still think I’m damned.)

I’ve collected pieces of you, puzzle blocks on ice.  I’ve been solving you all my life – curiosity killed the first woman, it will poison me, and when I finally perish under enlightenment’s sword?

I’ll be free.

 

Tower, this is Maverick Requesting Permission for a Fly-by

Will Nelson’s wise European travel insights: “I’ve seen things I’ve never dreamed I would see (converted soap factories in Belgium), eaten things I never thought I would (wait, beef tartare isn’t beef with tartar sauce?!), and met some of the most amazing people I’ve ever known (it turns out it is actually possible to befriend pigeons). “

Sueños de Viajes

Goose!

You know how Einstein said that time is relative?  Well, now I have proof. Somehow, 4 months have gone by, and I’m staring at the end of my study abroad program. It feels like just yesterday that I stepped off the plane into Sevilla, and here I am at the end. I’ve had so much fun and got to do a crazy amount of things, sometimes it seems like a dream (Did I really invite all my Facebook friends to a gay club in Germany?).  I’ve seen things I’ve never dreamed I would see (converted soap factories in Belgium), eaten things I never thought I would (wait, beef tartare isn’t beef with tartar sauce?!), and met some of the most amazing people I’ve ever known (it turns out it is actually possible to befriend pigeons). I guess like all things, it’s time to move on. Still, I just wish…

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