Thursday, August 28, 2008

Bleu Estui or The Long and Short of a Tall Tale

conceived as bad news
I was stewed in her blues and 
creator smacked me
with a Mongolian tattoo
right on the backside
to let me know who
I was
even before

I'd cried

torn in two
my mama
with a big shout
finally shoved me out
with a noose
of our own knots
(that I can't seem to lose)
tied tightly round
my cyanic neck

me  a tiny eight-month baby
crazy to sing but my cries were
all blue notes  and doc   worried
about a code   says to the nurse
let that baby loose
momshung on to his every word
trying to find out  what she'd had
then. when I finally cried she
just glad  I'd lived

pops was out working
on the railroad   layin down track
so moms was all alone
with her first brat
they wrapped me in an indigo shawl
to take me on home and since
they thought I was a boy what
should all my clothes be
but cornflower blue
to match everything
about.  the brand new me

I grew up on the south side of Chicago
steel mill's smoking blues in my front yard
it wasn't hard to be poor because
kids don't know much from rich
all we cared about
was if we were loved
but that was in short supply too
like money and food
and clothes and shoes
those things hard to get by

but my motto was
you can't hurt steel
that was my groove
and as I grew I forged
a shiny blue shield so
everything that happened
after that was a breeze
I drove around

in my first car
a '57 Chevy
and I was

©/s Odilia Galvan Rodriguez, 2008

1 comment:

Ojibway Migisi Bineshii said...

Awesome poem...I enjoyed reading it!