Collection of Poems by Kenneth Pobo
Our History in Salt
Our history in salt
water
I can’t meet
their reptile eyes
liquid obsidian
mirrors
these seem the most
vulnerable
despite jaws
which could snap
my arm off
a boy again
you watch one dive
deep
before surfacing
I want
your arms
human
to hold me
turtles circle
a square
of water
green scum
and paint
their sea
a few hundred feet
away
First published in Phase & Cycle.
Aunt Gwen Forgives Little
On the spotty Sundays
when she goes to church, she dreads
hymns, thinks them tuneless
and childish. No clinging to
an old rugged cross for her —
she never clings, says prayers
if they’re short and not booby-trapped
with supplications. She likes
that Jesus can forgive. At least
somebody can! Sometimes
she wishes that he’d return
right this minute smite a lot
of nasty people. Usually
she’s glad that he’s in heaven
so she’s still got time to wash
the basement windows and
put three old blouses in a bag
for the hospital resale shop.
First published in Rose & Thorn.
Anti-Cactus Remark
While looking for Norma’s
present I hear a father
tell his son that no,
he can’t have a nasty
cactus in his room. His
tantrum ends when he
sees a plastic gun
an aisle away. I want
that cactus, its pink
blossom a bicycle with no
rider heading up into
pale fluorescence. Norma
will have to wait. I take
my cactus home and put it on
my bedstand, hope it
blossoms in sleep’s desert,
its green trunk
a star’s tongue.
First published in Gerbil.
Muscovite Mica
In Earth’s novel
Mica,
each page peels off,
gives mountains
centuries
of surprise
endings. Silver
print is easy on
the eyes. Stars read it
on leaf porches. Mica
sells poorly, but Earth
writes so slowly,
it’s happy to bear
this one book
glaciers present to
wildflowers.
First published in Phase & Cycle.
Carbon Paper
I’d see a garbage can,
pick through it, find
something fun
like carbon paper,
a paper lake
I jumped in, blued
myself from toe
to crewcut, became
the blue kid on the block
till mom ordered me
to again be
her white
white child,
my joy forming
a blue gauze
around sides
of the tub,
possibilities
scrubbed away.
First published in Sidewalks.
Kenneth Pobo has a book of prose poems forthcoming from Clare Songbirds Publishing House called The Antlantis Hit Parade. His work has appeared in: Hawaii Review, Mudfish, Nimrod, and elsewhere.
