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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4670 Registered: 11-1998 |
Poem of the Week Two Women At River Teresa Ballard (Treezaa) one woman We bathe together, the white one and I in the Blood of My Brothers. It bends, licks the inside of thigh until her hands, lift up and away. Is this all she asks, this stream? Coming from a land of water she cannot know, nothing is everything in Haiti. It is lost to her, red under blue. I watch the one who comes to bring us Jesus slowly lift my home between her legs. It is all -- Beneswallo ta nel -- glory to god. the other I have no name here; blanc, blanc, the white one who walks with Him. There are no rivers; in mud I cannot wash off all that I have seen. She is here to protect me from myself and the child I have become. Brown against the hills, closer to God than I. In this place I want to know everything. I know nothing, except water is not wine. I cannot feed the hungry with these words -- Beneswallo ta nel -- glory to God. |
