Monday, January 28, 2013

One of my favorite poets/poems











Parsley (1983)

  
     1. The Cane Fields
     There is a parrot imitating spring
     in the palace, its feathers parsley green.
     Out of the swamp the cane appears
     to haunt us, and we cut it down. El General
5     searches for a word; he is all the world
     there is. Like a parrot imitating spring,
     we lie down screaming as rain punches through
     and we come up green. We cannot speak an R-
     out of the swamp, the cane appears
10     and then the mountain we call in whispers Katalina.
     The children gnaw their teeth to arrowheads.
     There is a parrot imitating spring.
     El General has found his word: perejil.
     Who says it, lives. He laughs, teeth shining
15     out of the swamp. The cane appears
     in our dreams, lashed by wind and streaming.
     And we lie down. For every drop of blood
     there is a parrot imitating spring.
     Out of the swamp the cane appears
     2. The Palace
20     The word the general's chosen is parsley.
     It is fall, when thoughts turn
     to love and death; the general thinks
     of his mother, how she died in the fall
     and he planted her walking cane at the grave
25     and it flowered, each spring stolidly forming
     four-star blossoms. The general
     pulls on his boots, he stomps to
     her room in the palace, the one without
     curtains, the one with a parrot
30     in a brass ring. As he paces he wonders
     Who can I kill today. And for a moment
     the little knot of screams
     is still. The parrot, who has traveled
     all the way from Australia in an ivory
35     cage, is, coy as a widow, practising
     spring. Ever since the morning
     his mother collapsed in the kitchen
     while baking skull-shaped candies
     for the Day of the Dead, the general
40     has hated sweets. He orders pastries
     brought up for the bird; they arrive
     dusted with sugar on a bed of lace.
     The knot in his sore throat starts to twitch;
     he sees his boots the first day in battle
45     splashed with mud and urine
     as a soldier falls at his feet amazed-
     how stupid he looked!-at the sound
     of artillery I never thought it would sing
     the soldier said, and died. Now
50     the general sees the fields of sugar
     cane, lashed by rain and streaming.
     He sees his mother's smile, the teeth
     gnawed to arrowheads. He hears
     the Haitians sing without R's
55     as they swing the great machetes:
     Katalina, they sing, Katalina,
     mi madre, mi amol en muelte. God knows
     his mother was no stupid woman; she
     could roll an R like a queen. Even
60     a parrot can roll an R! In the bare room
     the bright feathers arch in a parody
     of greenery, as the last pale crumbs
     disappear under the blackened tongue. Someone
     calls out his name in a voice
65     so like his mother's, a startled tear
     splashes the tip of his right boot.
     My mother, my love in death.
     The general remembers the tiny green sprigs
     men of his village wore in their capes
70     to honor the birth of a son. He will
     order many, this time, to be killed
     for a single, beautiful word.

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