Thursday, June 11, 2009

THE EFFECTS OF him

1962.
him;
don't forget the bottles of muscatel
clanking empty
in yards of broken champagne flute glasses
and lost memories of celebratory toasts;
empty.
slobbering stammering and stuttering a language
;
the C' word.
in a pitch low enough
that only other alcoholics can interpret.
in a pitch high enough
that only other dogs can hear.

brought into this world in handcuffs,
still I stutter;
a life in restraints.
shy by history.

(begins with a C')
him;
This giant of a man.
At five feet seven.
Back in the 50's (he,
who has been found drunk,in ditches in Memphis)
1969
Don't bother mom;
She's busy doing twice what you're too drunk to do once.
work.
love.
And he may hurt me even more when she ain't around.
I'm no fool.
I'll be quiet
(no, not me. Him. Begins with a C')
You see, there is history in these handcuffs.
There is pain.
the truth.
there is blood,
but there are no screams-that's for sissies.

let's not forget the small green bottles hidden in pockets of suits and winter coats at Deliverence Evangelical Church, New York, New York
:
the back turned slightly.
the contents quickly swallowed while mom obliviously praises God.
but I'm praising God too,
with one eye
and I see everything he did.
But God is omnipotent.
Praise Him!
the clapping which was not for support.
( God,please get me out of the audience )
The "C word.
We laugh
We cry
We're in the audience

But sis has a different interpretation of what we're both observing
/ I must have done something wrong.
apparently I must have asked to be born
to whom I was born/
before I was born
(God, remove my restraints)
Now,
Learning everything
by Listening to big bunches of nothing
From enemies who are close friends of each other
In time of need going their separate ways after bartime,
But sister, playing with dolls in the living room says to me
'leave my daddy alone.'
while the back of my neck is pressed down to keep my back bent over the ironing board
as the other hand holds a thick black leather belt to slam against my naked ass while the supremes song, 'where did our love go?' is playing on the radio,
the beat-down is only interrupted by the announcement that Martin Luther King Jr was just shot..
The effects of him. of him and those damn bottles...
&
if he stood still for a minute and listened
& watched
&cared,
he could have heard the slow seeping out of what ever volume of love my little heart contained.
I petitioned.
I begged for compassion.
In between slaps and scalding hot baths.
In between humiliation,
emasculation
and degradation.

Cirrhosis;
that's it.
The effects of him.
slap 1 across the face back hand
slap 2 across the face
slap 3 a bath in scalding water. Steam rising off the ankles.
slep 4
slap 5 you damn sissy
slap 6 damn mama's boy
slap 7
slap 8 Shut up! Don't be a sissy!
Slap 9 back hand slap
Be a man!

10 years old....
Applause.
And.
Curtains.
End scene...

I was brought into this world in handcuffs 1962 1972 1982 1992 1996 may he rest in peace 2000 2001 2002 2003 handcuffs still on
(where's the key?)
2004

handcuffs off

5 comments:

Midas69 said...

There is a strange beauty in this poem. I loved the pace, the story unfolds slowly and in magnificent layers, little by little until it blossums into a subtle yet poignant climax.

Not sure of the flow or cadence of the poem. But that's what makes it so uniquely distracting and unpredictable. Unpredicatble but not disorganized, the movement keeps your attention. Also not entirely sure why the sister's point of view was added. And to what effect, if any, did it have on the poem's message. Not sure on the significance of the different annual dates at the end either.

Don said...

Excellent prose.

I had to read it three times, to truly grasp the effort and meaning thoroughly.

Daij said...

Yes, I relive it everytime I read it. Thank you

BigmacInPittsburgh said...

You are not alone Daij,that's why I keep Gill Scotts song The Bottle at the top of my blogspot.

Daij said...

thank you