Citizen

She was a citizen

Of my

Blood

 

Coagulating juxtapositions

Of hierarchal positions

Drifting to the currents

And whims of currency

 

She was the

Marrow of mind

tremor of nerves

unsnappable synapse

Of bone that refused to

Bend in certain matters

Of skin

 

Through the parceled

Spheres of ghetto eyes

I’d look at her

In not the linear but in an

Eyes wide expanse of dream

Of what I claimed to be

 

Half Filipino

Blood of black and brown,

Tongue sliced, dripping

Silence of words I couldn’t

Form from a language pried

From throat like a rotten tooth

 

And she was a

Citizen of my

Blood

 

From a country

I’d claimed yet

Never set foot on

 

And she was fire

And flame and

smoke

 

Swimming into a cusp

Of consonants that

Looped around my

Wrists

 

A frontal feast

A verbiage of verbs

A succulent garden

Of invectives

 

She moved

Across the boundaries

Of body and heart with

The proper documentation

 

And in the widening

Space between us

Was the sum of pawnshop

Skin anchored by 500.00

Shoes

 

And the ghetto smell

Attached to my skin

Became too much to bear

 

And when she

Freed herself of the

Stench that was me

 

She became

What she

Wanted:

 

A citizen

Of America

 

(drunk on America)

 

The day the word

Nigger

dribbled

from

Her lips and down the

Side of her chin

 

A spewing of

Molecules in

A mouth to air reaction

Of broken chains

 

Dissolved

 

Unrecorded

 

Documented

 

 

 

© 2016 Tony Robles

 

 

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