diamonds are forever

 i had never seen buzzards pecking at dead human carcasses
before, like something out of the Old Testament
Bible or The Iliad, men who give bodies
and guts to the ground, and to vultures                      are still
slithering around free
a treaty that gives them liberty, the very people
they’ve maimed, buried alive

hacked to death by machetes

or a plain bullet

to the head

Lean

i’ve seen good women go bad
drunk and mad like wondering mangy mutts

dreams and children all but abandoned and caged, given
out of fight to hold the door from the storm

out in the street and no security in a home
home a street of hustlers all dream drunk dead of stars

in need of constant watch we cannot give in need of
a break that is a son of a bitch

not a church going woman
but a homegirl and private

my cousin Lean
a pretty woman with a gold cap

on the vampire tooth in the corner
cashed in all her good times raising children

her x husband tries to make
tennis pros out of

a trade of independence like his o man
the plumber – stealthy, stinggee, stubborn

shrewd – uncle edley
not together but not divorced of aunt sister

but Lean, nothing like her x joe
comes to moot’s house of haven

for sweet songs to hold hands with her sorrow
just a while – me and my brothers

play some al green for the good times
a loud wo/man when she talks

sits through the slow misery
of the song’s organ and green’s voice balming

her hurt heart like warm liquor
and she vinegar’s a smile

Kryptonite

Now I remember where I remember these songs from, the leper  pretend to not know anymore, and speak to you
from the island across the street

It was your place I went and listened to R&B albums
dumped our dope on and used id cards to scoop
up old spirits chasing us for an out of body experience

(Whatever he has they say is killing him)

to need it more than girls
or ambition, as if his ambition was the lady

the church boy, college educated
fool who left home to return with eyes
of ex-ray vision

(They think I’m the decent one)

who can run to the phone booth and change
But you, at least you were truthful

(However sadistic truth
fulness can be, however destructive truthfulness can be)

though sick for a long time
soon mine will show, and I will disappear into nothing
ness, and they will compare me to some African country

or diamonds

Lizards

Years ago when we were Tarzan and dumb
project boys swinging from rope sprained elbows
talking reptiles with bare hands, sling shots
and nooses made from tall grass
without thinking germs, we
would have jammed this one lizard into a bottle and wiped ours brows
dirty with sweat and run home to the frig
to pry open the block of ice to our faces
and when momma wasn’t lookin
grab the whole water jug
bring it to our mouths
chug it down like a diving waterfall
to the hot chin and chest of our thirst
scramble back outside to catch up with the gang
in the incinerator dump finding treasures

Your Snakes Talk to Humans

i.

 your snakes talk to humans?
next time it happens, use lime or a shovel
then you will surely be
a little lower than the angels

ii. 

my son likes apples
green granny ones, red washington ones
he shall surely die
with all his knowledge of god

iii. 

one day in the desert
of my longing, dry bones came together
i didn’t know whether to run or pray

iv.

when he turned water to wine
we all got drunk
with each other’s company
and to church the next morning with tears
and alcohol on our breasts

v.

he tricked us
and had that boy on the blocks
to chop his head off
said god had told him
we beat the shit out of him
took his boy and gave him to god

vi.

when he walked on the water
i damned near died
and he had to perform another miracle
of resuscitation on me
then I knew he was god

vii.

tongues?
he said he speaks in tongues
i was waiting on him to finish the sentence
there was a pause
i asked him to demonstrate

Kryptonite

Now I remember where I remember these songs from, the leper  pretend to not know anymore, and speak to you
from the island across the street

It was your place I went and listened to R&B albums
dumped our dope on and used id cards to scoop
up old spirits chasing us for an out of body experience

(Whatever he has they say is killing him)

to need it more than girls
or ambition, as if his ambition was the lady

the church boy, college educated
fool who left home to return with eyes
of ex-ray vision

(They think I’m the decent one)

 who can run to the phone booth and change
ut you, at least you were truthful

(However sadistic truth
fulness can be, however destructive truthfulness can be)

though sick for a long time
soon mine will show, and I will disappear into nothing
ness, and they will compare me to some African country

or diamonds

Copyright, Danny Bellinger.
All rights reserved by author.