John Curl

A ROW OF HILLS,

blue in the evening mist
a few geese pecking at grass
a woman, hands calloused from hard work,
bends and picks up
a huge fire raging at the hospital
a deep crater blown out of one corner
a stray bomb between a school and a farmhouse
plunging down from the roof to the first floor
as firetrucks converged on
the smoking residential district
damaging railways and watermellons
watermains shooting like geysers
a small globe of earth placed carefully
upside down on a gallows
devoured by birds
flashes of catastrophes at sea
poisoned by the magician's wand
we seem to be imprisoned in some cage
these bleak winter days
lilac hues in the evening sky
like a field of young tomatoes, inexpressibly pure
dew appears in the grass
a sow with a litter of sucklings
in the twilight of that deep shadowy elm
how much light there is in darkness!

EARTHQUAKE UNDER THE OCEAN

the pain the rocks feel
the mind refuses anything at all
a hawk on the corner of your roof
the hand is only asking for a dime
in the eyes of a fleeing wolf

you climb a precarious trail beside a waterfall
risk your heart on the fall of a card
turn a corner on a moonless night
run a race you have no chance to win
touch a shoulder that's kept its feelings unspoken
kiss the palms of a woman who's worked
hard all her life
rush out to see the dawn
look into the eyes of a spirit unbroken

a flower choosing to open
take off your innermost disguise
roots delve bedrock deep
penetrate your heart in search of sleep
a potted plant wondering where to go
the river deciding which way to flow
six hummingbirds hover above your head
it's a law of the universe:

grow or die

SPLINTERS OF MIRROR

shattered on the floor
barbed wire screwed into your brain
the muffler bounces across the highway
the urinal is full
pitbulls only follow orders
why can't you help me
ease the pain
we must
we must become indigenous again

now the president paces in a teak-paneled room
the lawyer keeps his eye on the deck
a tenant writes a check he prays is good
a homeless prophet prays for Robin Hood
down by the bus stop a woman
decides to seize her own fate
beneath the concrete a seed quietly waits

why don't we just
ruminate together
your graduation picture still exists somewhere
between the lake and summer's end
you had a friend with frizzy hair
the scent of new-mown hay
I'll show you what is in my hand
if you come with me
to Camagüey
listen closely you can hear
the creek that once flowed
not far away
we must
we must become indigenous again

Back top

Cover Design: Joseph McNair