Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsFall 2020  Vol. 19 No. 2
an online journal of literature and the arts
 print preview

After El Hombre by Rufino Tamayo

What will become my name
when I become a giant.

What if I wear nothing but bark?
A tree,

the people’s shadow,
the loom over loam.

Who says the earth was solid
like bedrock or

soft like the melt
of mud. Who wouldn’t

learn to plant their feet
deep until there is

no tug when I pull.
Why not root here, let my arms

branch & reach
for a language

fit for yearning: constellations.
What will my lineage say

when you cut me to a stump?
What dog will stay with me

when touching the sky
felt distant, a memory?

Chocolate flowers’ bloom,
tell me what does the sky say now

when our days grow darker,
when we wonder
what kingdom will remain?  

return to top