Other things know me,
as mass of men - women - children,
witnesses & intruders,
on my misfortune,
know my cries as the cane
struck my welted back,
as they knew the sounds
my throat makes as men unknown
sock and slap me,
scream me ‘thief! thief! thief!’
Reverberations of thwacks & slaps
swirl into the air,
creating a miasma
of judgement and glee,
as the great children of God
on judgment day will laugh
at those left out of the fold!
Others know me
as the men affront me!
force my hand on the ruined mortar
while one man, singled out for cruelty,
says ‘Deternelo, deternelo!’
as the men hold my struggling body,
as the crowd knows the thwacks from
the machete, used to cut paths into
the unknown, into the beast of nature,
as that limb is removed from me!
and the men howl and scream
‘Oralé, puto! para que aprendas, hijo de tu puta madre’
and the crowd laughed, and all had a merry time
On this the day of my judgment,
before the others,
a stranger kicks my hand
out into the dirt field, &
they yell, and curse me!
I fall to the ground,
cowering, sweaty with fear!
I know no sounds sufficient
to settle my fear, but a howl,
comes up through my dismembered arm!
it’s the throng of noise of the others!
it has entered my arm, and squidmed through my body,
coloring the red of my blood black
until it is released in one damned howl
to shame those of wolves, as though
it came from the bowels of hell,
for I have become a lover of the moon,
of idols, for I have become a thing
unto others, by others, for others,
an idol of caution,
& a standard of
right conduct,
like my father always wanted.
