2 poems by Kevin Simmonds

By Guest Contributor on October 21, 2015

Laveau

descended from wax & twine

my dolls are certain

red pepper skeleton key

low voice in the water

I bring boils

sear the feathers

so you become plural

like the worm

Marie Laveau (1801-1881), a mixed race Black Creole, was known as the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. Her grave attracts visitors from all over the world, many of whom leave written wishes marked with an “X,” which is said to encourage her granting the wish.

Toll

She astonishes us with his head

………brought down hard against the floor

………until it matches the rhythm of her closing declaration

………………..Fuck with me a-

………………..gain and I will

………………..Kill you

………………..Eyes mother-wide in instruction

Everyone in the subway car now apprehends the voice

………weightier than her frame

But I’d already watched her enter

………tight cutoffs and purple halter

………braids pulled into a bun

………the veracity of her hips

………collarbone traversing her wide shoulders

………eyes never lifting from cell phone

a dare of enchantment or nonchalance

until this man released

………What the fuck are you

into the quiet formality of the car

A preamble she’s heard many times before

………in English in Spanish

………from the potbellied the teenaged the blacks who speak readily

………and indignantly of her unbelonging to them

His not-question a challenge we brace for

………holding the poles

………adjusting our backpacks

………eyeing each other to see if we’ve assessed correctly

as she slides her phone into the right back pocket

summoning decisions made this morning and yesterday

and last week and every year before

then deciphering what her hands must do if the body would just launch

uncaring and cloudless into the affliction

………cursing it

………pinning it with her knees

………its long siren of repulsed faces flashing

………in this one now-terrified face

………………..of all-seeing men always men

………………..or angry angling women and family always family

………………..who stood guard against her lips and eye shadow

………………..tank tops and skirts encircling her runner’s legs veined

………………..and formidable

…………………………commanding attention to her complexity

…………………………her conditioning and theirs

…………………………and marking her evermore

Her bloom if it is to be

must push up through the hardness of stares

thickets of twitching knucklebones impaling everyday

with the certainty of a prophet

The ride is long to the next stop

She’s on her hands and knees a supplicant chosen

to hound this evil

bark it back so this man feels

her mercy

Kevin Simmonds is a writer, musician and filmmaker originally from New Orleans. His poetry collections include Mad for Meat and Bend to It, and he edited the anthology Collective Brightness: LGBTIQ Poets on Faith, Religion & Spirituality. He founded Tono International Arts Association, an arts presenter in northeastern Japan, wrote the music for the Emmy Award-winning documentary Hope: Living & Loving with HIV in Jamaica, and composed the score and co-wrote the script for Emmett Till a river, a Japanese noh-inspired play that debuted at San Francisco’s NohSpace in 2013. He’s received commissions and fellowships from Cave Canem, Creative Work Fund, Fulbright and San Francisco Arts Commission, and received the Edward Stanley Award from Prairie Schooner.