little haiti will never be my eden.
by Eli Skipp
and i will never eat its fruit --
i am an explosion.
i have traveled this feeble distance with
teeth and neck and bruises
at the back of my mind.
if things were perfect you would
my lips on your wrist would let you know
the east side's swallowed me
and Collins Avenue isn't
without you home.
trying to sleep the salt water out of my hair,
i still wake up
to a friend being a stranger
on the other line --
i choked on an apple this evening
while the sky was choked with smoke.
(there is a biblical symbolism in this
that i am unwilling to discuss) --
last night i kissed a stranger
and swam naked in the sea;
with you, with you --
and i would take every highway's
to keep you here,
except it changes half the story
to keep you whole.
Posted on 05/12/2007
Copyright © 2022 Eli Skipp
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Coleman Demiurge on 05/13/07 at 01:37 PM|
You're either on a little bit of drugs, or a lotta bit brilliant - possibly both, but I'm gonna lean towards the brilliance stance for the moment. To the 'in your face' opening lines to the evocative and poignant ending ones, this poem is excellent through-out... Much wow; well done!
|Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 05/16/07 at 04:40 PM|
Lush clustering of images! And I most like the rhetorical quality throughout, the phone feeling--the "no listen"s of it. Also the traveling, the movement, by swim or "avenue" from one end to the other...
|Posted by Tom Goss on 05/17/07 at 01:24 PM|
You are indeed a poetic explosion, and I for one enjoy basking in your words, watching the passionate soot build upon my fingers.