San Francisco Hands

Taiko skin drum
hands pulled tight
over swirling smoke

Tongue traced poems
on the roofs of
evicted mouths

Rattlesnake hands
wrapped in a cause
of gause, dipped
in one part blood
one part dream
one part love

Crawfish hands stained
with Louisiana dust,
hands that cradled my
mind until my mind
became a movement of dust

Filipino hands that
carried fish head storms
cradling what needed to
be cradled and doing what
needed to be done

San Francisco hands
recycling dreams like pearls
from the bottom of the bay
and loaded onto a nameless
ship floating down Market Street

San Francisco hands,
amputated and impaled
crawling over stone braille
silence towards a keyboard
of an empty black church

San Francisco hands attached
to fingers plucking barbed wire
strings of a mandolin heart, vibrating
across the waters of our skin,
a naked story written in sky

San Francisco hands
crying tamborine

never seamless
never silent

San Francisco

(c) 2014 Tony Robles


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