A persona poem written in syllabic verse for a class assignment.
(FYI: syllabic verse = all three stanzas have the same number of syllables in each line. It’s a huge bitch to write, especially when you start forty-five minutes before the deadline and you only have 10 fingers to count syllables.)
Based on the following photograph.
They named me Arif, and
two years ago they sent me off to
go work.
The fields smell like salt and
heavy earth, and at night the raindrops tap
questions onto the planks above our heads.
I dream of tracing answers on the water’s surface before
spotting schools of squirming fish.
They slide into my open palms like
chocolate, like easy.
I pinch them between my fingers and they
melt.
The other boys and I scrape
off their scales with rocks that
are warmed by the sunlight.
They play cards in folding
chairs that hang the moon and ink the sky
night-dark.
I watch because my hands
ache for something to hold. I ask to play.
They say piss off. I sit in the fields and
build empires out of husks. The wind makes them whisper secrets
that I hide under my bed.
I wear longing around my neck and
go for a swim. I
go to the market with the others. I
fall
in love with an airwave. The
music. In my next life
I will be a dancer.
You will bring the cat when
I see you again. After we have
money.
Mom and Dad work hard, so
we must as well. When I see you again
I will teach the cat to fish. I will teach
you to harvest. We will have enough food to feast forever!
One other boy says he can
not bring himself to believe in the
sun during times like
this. I laugh and the rain pours out from my
chest.
The other boy leaves for the
city. When they find he’s
gone, they beat us with sticks.