Brian Francis

Everywhere and Here Too

After Betty Davis

see the dumb animal, its tongue
unravels, laughing too hard at its own

reflection   calling constellations gems
sifted from the bottom of the bed

begging on some inevitable maybe
the fat bulb     silly above this field

the sorcery of blades   splitting
          the pomegranate tree

and then the record skips
          see what the needle did     see

jazz malleable body     in the smoke
embrace of a jumbee

hunting fresh breath   take the fire
from my hands   gyrations shift juju

and fire science   fishnets and riverwater,
you were there       turquoise chain in hand.

Brian Francis is a Cave Canem fellow from New York City. He has a BA in Creative Nonfiction from the University of Pittsburgh and an MFA in Poetry from NYU. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Cortland Review, Tupelo Quarterly, No, Dear, Cave Canem Anthology XIII, Fledgling Rag. He lives and teaches in Harlem.

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