dead father in the storm

dead father in the storm

 

I can see through your stiffness

serenity engulfing stained with

affections too brisk- a happy

betrayal marbled in your white

eyes that regret nothing while

outside the flood snakes down

in the wrath of the swooping wind

 

the house sways and cringes heavy

with every gust of misery ravaging

the old mango tree where we knelt

and prayed to mom’s God and reinitas

built their palaces of straw, dry

roots and songs that precluded

silence to be scary. Mom tied

yellow ribbons ‘round the old

oak tree- as in the tune you always

whistled, but not as loud as the storm

blows now between the creaks of

the walls- they howl at times

like pain in the mouth of a bull’s

ghost- but no, you don’t mind

anymore. your blistered flesh

greens- foamy with blood- body

bloated big as a Sumerian

god or an idolized bull. you grow

and die a little more and maybe

when the hurricane ends there

will be no dry land to bury you

and I’ll have to burn you

in the sofá, with your stench,

your decaying teeth and betrayal

combusting like the light of distant

stars- the hurt swelling incandescent

Elidio La Torre Legares