Saturday, July 22, 2006

instead of a dagger in your stomach

this is how it could be

he talks.
you see a white washed living room with sparse furniture
you see him stroking a cat
you see him look for a word in the puzzle

the kitchen materializes out of nowhere,
with the yellow tables and what you see
dangling from the window is some
village craft you picked up in Kenya

instead of a dagger in your stomach,
this is what can happen
when a man talks,
and it's a beautiful evening
in a third-world, hilled city

and in your mind's eye
you still reach out for that drawer
to hand that other person
the knife.

3 comments:

Lonely Feet said...

....to think of it,
yesssshhhhh

Lonely Feet said...

Well something i really like in the poem, don't know whether it was a conscisous use...but I love the whole colonial discourse that I can read into the Kenyan village craft!

Maybe I am reading too much into it, given circumstances I am aware of ;)

nagihun said...

Kenya got in there because of this Constant Gardener film, actually, but once it was there, there was no stopping the third world taking over :-)

but the narrator is also implicit in the "picked up"--- it should really read "the village craft we picked up in Kenya, in order to give some Kraft into the relationship..."

all to no avail? possibly.