Skulls Head Samba

 

 

poem

once i fought so hard

for life  stood in the

doctor's office   screamed

i have to survive-my

son and i cld feel

myself falling thru

a hole and down the chute

to the bottomless pit-

the rug a churning green

sea under wobbly knees-

my feet in sandals 'cause

the weather was warm but

at least i knew who i

was

-thursday nite

and i take lygia barettos

afro-brazilian class   we samba

to the sekire and conga, i swim

again, bike home, pick

up pea soup, carrot juice,

jane calls from downstairs,

locked out, i let her in,

she uses my window to climb

up to her place the straw that breaks

the camel's back or is it

we won the battle but what

about the war if i have

one more responsibility, one more

disappointment, one more

night when i want

to hang out but he needs to step

off, i wont do anything-thats

the funny part, wont take straight

edge, knife, revolver, or side

of building, wont have a drink, pop

a pill, do dope, its not my

style-im far more likely

to walk into a truck-but will

 

~ skip that option, i have a

son-

      tomorrow is another day,

take care of

the body mom used

to say take care of

the body the soul

will take care of

itself- we know

better-if the soul sambas,

the body soars-

 

 

 

 

      from " Skulls Head Samba"

 

Steve CannonTribes