The Innisfree Poetry Journal
by Rose Solari
BOY ON A CROSS, DE VARGAS PARK, SANTA FE
Did you practice for thison the football field, swinging your new-muscled body
up to pull the goalposts down? Did you hurdle
the living room couch, no one at home? Now,
in this city of dust and yellow light, you work selling
incense and tin icons, spend afternoons in the park
with friends, or at least, people who dress
like you. But youíve got something over the other boys,
strumming their windy lyrics.
Surprise is part of it. Firstyouíre here beside us, letting the tourists gather. Then
you crouch and spring high into the thinning air.
Your whole weight catches on your clawed hands
and you hang, trembling, your face turned away
like a childís from an unwelcome adult embrace. Look,
somebody says, itís the boy who crucifies himself.
On the ground, clumps of sage scuttle by like pilgrims
toward the promise of healing water. Above us,
the clouds shift to let the pitiless sun come down.
© Copyright 2006-7 by Cook Communication