Wednesday, January 14, 2004
Adrian Leon: Kachinas
An army of tiny kachinas
Each one blessed she said
To reach out and promote harmony
Lined up now on the kiva
Awaiting orders or my next folly
Expectant they expose the rifts in my making.
Long ago I believed
God sewed me up like a doll
Here, see the seams on my little toes
The spots where God filled me with stuffing
Turned under the edges and hand stitched me closed?
Puckered and gaping now, I pick open the stitches,
Then have the audacity to accuse God of doing a shitty job
Leaving the threads to pull loose or dissolve
Bits of courage, hope, patience pushing their way out
To get lost in the footsteps which carry me
Up through the winding streets of a Northern New Mexico town.
Dogs bark their challenge as I pass
Crumbling bricks, birch twig fences, doors painted the blue
Of a Caribbean lagoon
Alone and quietly aware of how each distinct detail
Revealed in this unsullied light
Can be both wondrous and damning
The imperfections apparent
It must be obvious here too that
I am leaking, God.
My stuffing just another piece of litter
To pile up on the gravel alongside
Sprite bottles and faded headlines.
There's an awful lot of mending to do here.
An army of kachinas should be enough, right?