I got a Spaniard to love me once
for a week we rode his Vespa
wove through traffic in the heat
his back was hard fragrant José Luis
The sleek bodies that climb the ladders of water slides
the popular cocky ways young males have
of sliding into blue
I’m sure I smell who will tell me honestly
Friends have no time
My plants are unwell every last one
the flourishing life my birth mother left me
When I looked in her body lay there
still hooked up to monitors
mouth half open tongue half out
she lay there propped up more tired more finished and alone
than dead
What does it mean this cough
who can I ask that knows
who would be brave and tell me
The plants accept help willingly
then wither some more
José Luis
I shut my eyes and I’m in Spain
it’s May and it’s dusk and the swallows are back
and what a smell of oranges in my hands
___
Alex M. Frankel is a poet in Los Angeles. He hosts the Second Sunday Poetry Series and his first collection, recently published by Lummox Press, is entitled Birth Mother Mercy. His website is www.alexmfrankel.com. In addition to poetry, he writes reviews, essays, and short fiction; currently he’s working on a memoir about finding his birth parents.
Friday, January 2nd, 2015 12:21 am
Categories: Archives, Issue 8.3, Poetry
