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Thursday, October 7, 2010

The Circumnavigator


When we showed our scars
you  always won.
My brother never killed himself.

Never dressed up like a mosquito,
and jumped from a car
to prove he could fly.

My father never cheated
on my mother--
and she is no saint.

We never found a pile
of nude photos, neighborhood women,
your best friend’s sister.

My father never hid his Playboys--
still keeps them in the trashcan
next to the toilet.

I never kept a vortex of icons.
Never had to escape my Catholic youth,
or feel guilty about sex.

Your self-portrait still
hangs over my bar. Tornado face--
eyes whip feet, 
penis in the foreground.

Now, a thousand years later,
a picture of you--
fragile as a mosquito’s wing--

holding out skinny arms.
Your face a storm
I circumnavigate.

Photography by Stewart Ferebee

1 comment:

  1. What a beautiful piece, and a beautiful portrait.