after Oya
Some nights
I love this earth to dust
I shout umbilical prayers
& they rise
into tornado
I shake the spirit box
surrounded by shards
then fling back the scabs
of houses
Take my rivers
all of you
& drink them
I need no permission
to drain
the gourd
or split the hot
yam center of dirt
Yes
my sacraments walk
clothed in welts
but you don’t have to believe
In my throat
the clutch of blood
Take my rivers
all of you
& drink them
I tear
& I tear open the breathless
cradle packed
tight
& blow the wall of wood
sailing on my lifeline
the nine streams of spit
dammed by flying stone
Now fall & call my name
a welcome for death
& Didn’t my Lord deliver Daniel
is an empty pocket
turned inside
out
From The Glory Gets (Wesleyan University Press, 2015) by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers. Copyright © 2015 by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers. Used with the permission of the author.