poetry

poetry

Feminist Fashion Police Strike Again

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Cedar commissioned this poem.

Feminist Fashion Police Strike Again

the irony

the terrible mistakes made
in the making, selling, wearing of this t-shirt:
“AFRAID TO MAKE MISTAKES”
bold white letters on a red ground with a smattering of blue stars
evoking America

the worst part is that it’s not worn by some silly little slip of a girl
she’s a middle-aged woman
in a sensible headscarf
out with friends
on the river trail

the best part is
that my 9-year-old boy is horrified
wants to tell her to dare
wants to show her the mother-of-pearl insight
inside failure’s ugly oyster
wants to hold her hand
to help her be braver
like he held mine
after the bat’s wings brushed my arm.

poetry

Fire + Air + Water + Air + Chlorophyll

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Fire + Air + Water + Air + Chlorophyll

sun burns 93 million miles
touches river
still air decides to move in a jungle sigh
beams bounce in shimmering waves
dance across soft undersides of overhead leaves
paint swirls of gold into the green
make a fairy light I now know to look for
as improbably probable as rain + sun = a spectrum in the sky

poetry

victory

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victory

in the jungle
headlamp draws
so many bugs
I can’t breathe

even held in my hand
light invites too many
winged spectators
to be able to think
about anything
except being done

as usual
arthropods win

poetry

Bukit Lawang sketches

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Bukit Lawang sketches

i

is it raining?
 Alex asks
no
we are just surrounded
by river and stream

ii

explosive crash
onto tin roof
monkeys making
typical trouble

iii

barefoot=chicken-leg
when Cedar’s legs tire
he sighs
my baby cows are crying

every day for me
the quandary:
insufferable heat
or offensive thigh display?

iv

mixed fruit drink
and ginger tea =
exotic refreshment

by day 3:
back to Coke & Sprite

v

mama/baby orangutan appear
vivid orange against the green
of the cave’s gap

you are unlucky
 our guide says sympathetically
you already trekked yesterday
 (=made unnecessary payment
for extraneous orangutan viewing)

you mean lucky
 we say
our orangutan economics
quite different

vi

better to trek Saturday
 our guide says
on Sundays local people come here
to photograph tourists
they scream too much
when they see you,
frighten orangutans

will they lure us with fruit?
 I ask

today on the bridge
a father suddenly throws
his son’s arm around Cedar
snaps a photo
what will his story be?

Thanks to Cedar for helping type this poem.

poetry

forest man

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Owen took this photo.

forest man

sun turns thick tufts of fur to flame
stretched arms casually clasp
tree limbs slowly bending to forest floor
a long face looks down
at the baldish ape-men
with a modicum of curiosity
munches a leaf a nut a fruit
holds a trunk with feet-hands
tosses his arms this way and that
jointless as a Muppet

gentle orange man
forgive us for what we unthinkingly do
greedily eating blue packets of greasy Oreos
that probably burned your cousins in their nests

like all the endangered ones
you’re sentenced despite your innocence
you never asked for trouble
just a leaf umbrella from the rain

poetry

Feminist Fashion Police Citizen’s Arrest

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Feminist Fashion Police Citizen’s Arrest

as the long escalator plunges down
through the glittery shopping-obsessed
Oil State airport/mall
I can’t help but read
the trim young woman’s back
in front of me over and over
spelled out in a block
of black and white sequins:
THINK LESS

trapped together for this moment
the stages of grief flash by
while both our hearts keep sinking lower

  1. DENIAL
    maybe she doesn’t speak English
    sees the text the way I see a Chinese tattoo
    or the Arabic all around now
    no more than an interesting pattern
    of swoops and stops
    utterly meaningless
    maybe she’s no idea
    what she’s broadcasting
  2. ANGER
    you are undermining everything
    everyone’s done
    dimming the future for everyone
    idiot!
  3. BARGAINING
    maybe they’re mermaid sequins
    stroke her back
    and maybe the words transform, inspire
    say love more
    do more
    feel more
    maybe I’d agree
  4. DEPRESSION
    it’s not just her to blame
    it’s the designer
    the manufacturer
    the marketing team
    the model who wore it
    the store owner who sold it
    her parents
    her friends
    the men it was meant for
    WHAT WERE THEY THINKING?
    oh, yeah. right. they weren’t.
  5. ACCEPTANCE
    o young woman
    on the DXB escalator
    who I am so tempted to think less of
    who I literally look down on
    you are yet another manifestation
    of divine intervention
    the universe exercising its will
    calling me to stay vigilant
    reminding me
    how much could still be lost
    thank you for putting your provocative self
    in my path
    igniting my thinking
    in the midst of an otherwise mindless moment
    clutching the handrail
    descending into materialism’s hell

poetry

the quiet lounge, DXB

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the quiet lounge, DXB

sometimes it’s like stumbling on
the free quiet lounge –
a calm room filled with recliners
(many unoccupied) –
right before you settle for
cold hard airport floor;
ask and
(sometimes)
faith answers

poetry

fog sound bank

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fog sound bank

in the plush pale grey of fog
our lashes go spangled
each footstep sounds
a loud crunch in
the small space of here

a grassbird call resounds
cliff to cliff and back
its volume startles

on the summit
sound pops from all quarters
(frogs we can’t see and don’t expect
utterly untroubled by liquid air)

a dassie slowly saws stems
and we register each chew
even so I can’t make out
a sunbird’s sips
now and then wind demands attention
ruffles our hair
and blows on our earlobes:
are you all here? now?

poetry

Service

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Service

in the neat white houses
someone is making nectar
for the sugar birds
someone is hacking at packed sand
slowly shifting it to garden
someone is out patrolling in the night
waving a flashlight into worried windows
dispensing peace of mind

in the neat white houses
black men and women
are doing their work
of making the country run