(...what it would feel like to be a man)
feet on broken magic
as the town comes out to see a lanky man unsure
dreaming in two places
crown the beads of sweat the dirt unguarded
as his mother makes her motions with her amulets
with wine. The righteous grinning from inside.
how alone to be misunderstood along your sacred path.
Moths surround your head at night dance
flush out what you remember from the circle.
there’s something simpler there
shoes removed tangle of your hair and stark
the sun that follows blank-faced shallow drums
along the river sparkles for a moment waters break
grace knocked up against the wall the rude
beleaguered spitting mob foreplay and the play
of light is elegant up on the roof before the others wake
rinds strewn in sand the skin a pleasure
will be bounty on your head but soft
reach for something safe to savor now