I kiss him then tag along watching my Beloved
pace as he is on his Zoom call--avatar off
preppy shirt rumpled mis-buttoned Sigh
I clasp my hands for control, leaned in
I carry the kiss in a tiny silk pouch my soul on my side
a kiss like a pimpled raspberry, capacious and easily torn
animus-sensitive, vegan father
my well spoken wizard wise counsel in the mess
I listen to my true love divine in the quietest hours
he wants to understand to keep himself safe me too
his little sister trots behind. I run ahead wave my arms
he, head down reads so he can hold his own
interested in his Brazilian blood his samba chops how did
he get to be such a smarty pants I want to be him I am him
the kiss, brief and dry I don't close my eyes I am 5
want to jump on the bed he was not my daddy or son
he was 5 too so we jumped then all-fell-down in a heap of feathers
cotton sheets so crisp and clean I make a shroud
we drink Mexican coca cola side by side on the balcony listen to all
languages spoken in New York City I show off my Portuguese
hum The Boy From Ipanema sing shyly
Olha que coisa mais
lindo mais cheia de graca--e elle menino que vem e que passa...
we put our heads together to save the world.
Last night in the dark diaspora he discusses recent HIS-tory Mumbai
terrorist attack 2008 known-for-his-integrity Manmohan Singh's act
Do Nothing
What would happen if focus rested on
mourning—bringing the babies and grandmothers home
"When people talk of integrity, I say the best example is the man who
occupies the country's highest office."*
I am doing nothing but packing
*Quote from Khushwant Singh