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Mary Grace Guevara


Ode to an Avocado

dressed with lemon,
garlic, olive oil & mustard-
a chef's delight

but i like you best
bare
sliced open under rough snake
skin
velvet ripe & creamy
belly

drizzled with sugar
& cold milk,
bowled dessert
of indolent summer days

plump smooth,
slivers of ambrosia      
your taste is only rivaled
by my other childhood memory-

cloistered nuns
making candied purple yams
stirring over
& over
flaming giant pan until
rough fibers turn sin-
fully lush
as nectar oil
decadent food
for gods 
hand-bottled for sale in market -

pear-shaped
your green womb
wraps me tight like seed
coconut-shaped
pining for tropical sun--

Inside//Outside my Head

This poem lives outside my head
It strikes at the edges & wallows
in unfinished business, cusps &
in between, backspaces & deleted words

It enjoys rowdy street crowds
and music blaring from the young man
tapping his fingers on keyboards as if
he's in a concert instead of subway stop

Sometimes it jogs early morning alone
in the beach or park, lost in its verses
unmindful of time, who comes nosing close
like an eager puppy waiting for a treat 

Some nights, it sips margarita & refuses
to rhyme, preferring to tango & sway to
hot salsa music & restless feet, until
shoes & restraint are forgotten in the mix

It collects broken & forgotten things
as if they are treasures instead of junk
During winter, it presses its cheeks
against my shivering bones, croaking 
'Here's the kerosene, light that fire!’
​

Picture
Picture

Mary Grace Guevara's profile

The aftermath

the night drowned   
blue, silver and black ash
under quartered moon

honey-sipped, the waves
quickly swelled into a tsunami
drained of salt

bittersweet like grapefruit
sucking tears, words and flesh --
I drifted, swallowed      

dry by sea --
shattered shell, deranged of memories
from your leaving  

Winter, the birthing

The cold bites
everything to black & white

I know the signs:

A spire tightens around my neck 

Knotted of flowers, black

narcissus    

In darkening sky      
wind stings like a bee

Your absence
dear one is harder than

melting snow

salt-christened, blue teardrop

At night
I lean on your words -

womb, flint, amber

& burn
& burn

A Tribute to Nelson Mandella

Do not stand by my grave & grieve
I'm not here, wrapped in leopard skin
I am where the wind blows cruelest
So my words will scatter like grains 

Ripening land of corn & fruits
Do not stand by my grave & grieve
I'm not here, draped in flag honors
I am where the night reigns darkest

Burning candles beacon for peace
After slaughtering the ox, feast
Do not stand by my grave & grieve
I'm not here, blessed in holy water

I am where sky blues grass field
And sun browns our faces with joy
Sing & dance in celebration
Do not stand by my grave & grieve

Comments?

***

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