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ID3181900
AuthorsTracy K Smith (corresponding author)
Year2004
Volume27
Issue4
Pages876-882
Publication date2004-09-01
Peer ReviewedYes
Open AccessNo
TypeARTICLE
VenueCallaloo (JOURNAL)
Journal identifiersISSN: 0161-2492 • E-ISSN: 1080-6512
PublisherProject MUSE (PUBLISHER • US)
DOI10.1353/cal.2004.0183
OpenAlexW4254426166
LanguageEN
Citations received1

Prologue: This is a poem about the itch That stirs a nation at night. This is a poem about all we'll do Not to scratch— (Where fatigue is great, the mind Will invent entire stories to protect sleep.) Dark stories. Deep fright. Syntax of nonsense. Our prone shape has slept a long time. Our night, many nights— This is a story in the poem's own voice. This is epic. * Part One: Gods and Monsters There is an eagle. The Eagle. The Eagle dreams light, Dreams molten heat, dreams words Like bark, fir and great mountains Appear under the shadows of great trees. The Eagle dreams fox, and that amber shape Appears in a glade. Dreams egg, [End Page 876] And the fox is cradling A fragile world between sharp teeth. All gods do this. Flesh is the first literature. There is Pan Gu. Dog-god. His only verb: to grow. And when he dies, history happens. His body becomes Word: Blood, eye, tendon, teeth Become river, moon, path, ore. Marrow becomes jade. Sperm, pearl. The vermin of his body, you and me. Elsewhere and at the same time, Some sentient scrap of first flame, Of being ablaze, rages on, Hissing air, coughing still more air, Sighing rough sighs around the ideas Of man, woman, snake, fruit. We all know the story Of that god. A story written in smoke And set down atop other stories. (How many others? Countless others.) There is the element of Earth to consider: Fast globe driven by the children of gods. Driven blind, driven with fatigue, fear, With night sweats and hoarse laughter. Driven forward, stalled, dragged back. Driven mad, because the ones Who drive it are not gods themselves. Because the children of gods are not gods. [End Page 877] * Part Two: The New World There were always fragile fingers Winding cotton and wool— Momentary clouds—into thread. Was always that diminishing. Words Whittled and stretched into meaning. And meaning here is: line. What the fish tugs at. What is crossed. Thin split between Ever and After. And what, in going, is lost. Was always the language of pigment: Indigo, yolk, dirt red. This meant Belonging. What the women wove: Stark wonder. Hours and hours. Mystery. Misery. On their knees. A remedy for cold. There were houses not meant to stand Forever. But not for the reasons We were told. * Part Three: Occupation Every poem is the story of itself. Pure conflict. Its own undoing. Breeze of dreams, then certain death. Every poem is a world. This poem is Creole. Kreyol. This poem is a boat. Bato. This poem floats on the horizon All day all night. Has leaks And a hundred bodies at prayer. This poem is not going to make it. But it must. [End Page 878] And this poem is the army Left behind when the bato Sails. This poem is full Of soldiers. Soldas. When the bato is turned back, The people it carries, Those who survive, will be Made to regret leaving. The soldas know how to do this. How to make a person Wish for death. The soldas Know how to do this Because many of them believe They have already died once before. There are secret police Who don't want the poem to continue, But they're not sure It is important enough to silence. They go home to wives Who expect to be taken out, Made love to, offered Expensive gifts. They are bored, The police and their wives. They eat, turn on the tv, swallow Scotch, wine. In bed, they say nothing, Feigning sleep. And the house, A new house, croons to itself. Its voice seeps out and off, Marries with the neighbors', Makes a kind of American music That holds everything in place. Of course there are victims in this poem: victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim victim

Art · Art history · Eagle · Literature · Poetry · Prologue · Diverse Scientific and Economic Studies · Ecocriticism and Environmental Literature · History · Legal Cases and Commentary

  • Le Yémen au xviie siècle

    Open Access•Tomislav Klarić•Revue des mondes musulmans et de…•2008

Unique citing works1
Citations per year0,06
Citation span2008 - 2008 (1)
Citation velocityhistorical
Highly citedNo
Citation typesNeutral: 1

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Ethnos_APP • Open Source Project • MIT License • Frontend v2.0.0 • Privacy and Cookies • API Documentation: api.ethnos.app/docs • API Source Code: GitHub • DOI: 10.5281/zenodo.17049435 • Frontend Source Code: GitHub • DOI: 10.5281/zenodo.17050053 • cruz.rio.br • Expectantes Misericordiae