POEM: MOJO HAND

photo by Alex Lear

 

 

MOJO HAND

 

men who worship sky gods & have no earth gods

are dicks with no place to grow their seed except

into stolen soil, turf marked off, contained, contracted

even owned, acculturated & institutionalized into weakness

 

is to hurt the land and dishonor the number four

is to believe in the father, the son and no mother,

is the unspeakable name of a male who gives birth to women,

is to worship macho male bonding & be enraged with womb envy

is finally to talk about protecting women from what?

 

from men, a gender mafia extorting feminine devotion

allegedly in exchange for promised security

 

what there finally is is a need to heal and nurture, in

reality we have been hurt, maimed, raped and damn near destroyed

rambo will do us no good now, where is dr. drew, dr. carver

where is the ability to bandage and the patience to tend to patients

the easy softness with babies, the untragic shaping

of adolescent egos, the avoidance of posturing, a willingness

to admit ignorance & even impotence, we can not stop

life from cutting us but we can tend to the wounds, or can we

men ever climb down off our high horses, kneel to the earth

embrace life & share the strength of a medicinal mojo hand

 

—kalamu ya salaam