when you ask me if you are a good father
look we know how this will play out
I will open my mouth say yes let you
walk away soothed like a small sleepy child
while I shake with every blessed memory
the glory of each fat violence you wrought
it would be too easy to name them
to speak on the ochre bruise covering half
my sister’s face the other women
the times you told me you could wish away
our lives your mouth hollow with grief
it’s never easy to be a man but it’s never
been easy to be a woman fuck it’s
not easy to live I love you
the way you love me volcanic ugly
hard I wish you would ask the question
again I’d answer in blood
I’d answer yes
cook up meets god
and she is a big black woman thick
thigh meat all dark knotted hair lips a smashed ripe heart
there are months where he forgets her chases
after other sweet women and drink she lays in a
locked closet weeping into her sister’s shoulder
holding her arms the bare skin a bruised constellation
sometimes he love her too much opens every
door and window in the dark house till breath
floods in swears off rum whirls
round the kitchen till a feast erupts prays
at her feet for grace pulls god in closer
whispers who else yuh love but me enters in
between her legs and feasts for days
god drunk in his light
*this poem is part of a longer series detailing the exploits of cook up, a fictional character living in Guyana. cook up is also a traditional guyanese dish made of rice, pork, coconut milk and pigeon peas.
