Tuesday, December 1, 2015

DB Cox- Three Poems

                ---“ On October 12, 2002, Heshu Yones, a sixteen-year old
Iraqi Kurd who was planning to run away from her family home in London had
her throat cut by her father, because he believed she was dating a
non-Muslim and had become too westernized” --- from Harper’s Magazine

& when he had slaughtered
his wayward daughter
the one he could not comprehend
him crazy-out of control
like some blind & willful beast
when his anger was spent
& the silent room began
to whisper its accusations
what then--
did he scream out her name
did he bend
to touch her perfect face
& gaze into staring black eyes
did his bloodstained fingers
trace the dark waterfall
of her hair to where it flowed
into the crimson river
just below her throat
did he now in utter despair
turn the blade on himself
& write a fitting end
to this twisted one-act play
or did he coldly lay the knife
on the killing floor
place a call
& wait

cisco sits bleeding

felony face
cuts down the alley
like a cold breeze
police sirens
sing the same name
as last night
darkness covers
the bloody footprints
of a young desperado
as he stumbles
inside the gentleman’s
john--defunct exxon
new address
for the dispossessed
a spider-cracked mirror
hides out-of-luck eyes
hard as roman nails--
bony back to the wall
he slips to the floor
at nothing at all
shaky tones falling
into a full-blown hack
bell-cracked saxophone
death-rattle tones
round & round
the obscene sanctuary
top floor of hell
that smells
like a waiting room
for the cemetery

the eight-mile bridge
--- For A.T.

most nights he slept in the silent space
between freights that rolled overhead
like a storm
rocking concrete pillars
planted along hidden fault lines
under the eight-mile bridge

where gods spoke through broken wine bottles
& drunken-tongued stumble bums
coughed up old tales
that colored the air blue
haunted faces
tallying old mistakes
under the eight-mile bridge

his mind was gone
when they brought him
back to the county home
where he lies under nights-too quiet
staring up restless & confused
wondering what happened
to the thunder under the eight-mile bridge

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