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Mt. Zion

After funerals, everyone goes berserk:
they sell the rings, hide the policies, dig up
the money jar, stiff the undertaker,
toss the antique child’s rocker, the ceramic
pie plates, and the tintypes of all our Indian
ancestors. They kill the roses, disown in-laws
and second spouses, chain the Doberman
to the mimosa, refuse to reveal the cole slaw
recipe, cuss out the woman preacher, junk
the upright piano, and the glass and cherry bookcase.
They unbolt the door for the copper plumbing crooks,
swipe The Bible, and lose the house to taxes.
 
I lean on the oak at Mt. Zion, hoard
pencils and Christmas cards, avoid doctors,
take pictures I won’t ever develop.


Going to Canada

In Quebec Canada, Mommy and I climb up to
St. Anne De Bow-Pray on our knees
praying the prayer on the sign on each step.
The alter is a mountain of braces and crutches
thrown away by the healed people.
 
Daddy lets us stop at the restaurant.
I ask Mommy if they have French food.
Green cheese? The waitress asks.
Green cheese?
 
The big hotel room is all fringes
patterns, textures, carved tables and chairs.
I think Europe must be like this.
The chambermaid picks up my Tiny Tears doll.
She wears a uniform like in the movies
and asks me questions in French.
I understand exactly what she is saying, but
I’m not sure how to answer.
I look at my mother who smiles and says go on. . .
 
On our way out of town Dad stops for gas;
one giant, squeaky balloon, free, with a fill-up.
Mommy, can you tell me what to say:
Uh baa-luh-see-vou-play.
The balloon shrivels before the next bathroom stop.
Uh-baa-luh-see-vou-play.

 
 

The Bridge Poem
 
I’ve had enough
I’m sick of seeing and touching
Both sides of things
Sick of being the damn bridge for everybody
 
Nobody
Can talk to anybody
Without me
Right?
 
I explain my mother to my father
my father to my little sister
My little sister to my brother
my brother to the white feminists
The white feminists to the Black church folks
the Black church folks to the ex-hippies
the ex-hippies to the Black separatists
the Black separatists to the artists
the artists to my friends’ parents…
 
Then
I’ve got to explain myself
To everybody
 
I do more translating
Than the Gawdamn U.N.
 
Forget it
I’m sick of it.
 
I’m sick of filling in your gaps
 
Sick of being your insurance against
the isolation of your self-imposed limitations
 
Sick of being the crazy at your holiday dinners
 
Sick of being the odd one at your Sunday Brunches
 
Sick of being the sole Black friend to 34 individual white people
 
Find another connection to the rest of the world
Find something else to make you legitimate
Find some other way to be political and hip
 
I will not be the bridge to your womanhood
Your manhood
Your humanness
 
I’m sick of reminding you not to
Close off too tight for too long
 
I’m sick of mediating with your worst self
On behalf of your better selves
 
I am sick
Of having to remind you
To breathe
Before you suffocate
Your own fool self
 
Forget it
Stretch or drown
Evolve or die
 
The bridge I must be
Is the bridge to my own power
I must translate
My own fears
Mediate
My own weaknesses
 
I must be the bridge to nowhere
But my true self
And then
I will be useful

 



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