Volume Five, Issue 3

Darryl Wawa

Draw me a Veve:
Imamou, Lan Congo, Balindjo
Low light, warmth, nerves
your tongue, a horizon

Horizon edge
leaf blowers
orange and purple sky
open mouth

nerves in the nooks
tongue and temperature
lusting for
space or flesh

the pretty chiasm
of this hunger
better than a moral
a jerking grudge too easily

If I forget my skin
the salt air and rot
will muffle my ear
and everything will sound
like pillowed chiming bells

To shed and weave
fictions and yards
of rope
colors of sticky hope
Marlin colors
Dolphin turquoise
Heat neon
the glow of stripes
and strippers
a nude beach
jizmed jazz
black, orange and cyan
chlorinated cum
sodium pink contours
if my mouth a funeral
then my eyes

You get pierced
you sexualize your own queer pain
and it glues back parts of your skin
that had run away
dark green shadows of you
seeking what feels true
not necessarily is, but feels
and it changes your shape
the “U” you thought you were
bcomes an “O” or an “I”
‘Ian Phaka Poun’ Goueh Imalolo’
my mouth
‘Ogoun Ferraille Alman’
a funeral of desire

Draw Me a Veve:
La Sirene—
The Mermaid

Under a froth of clouds
I have been going back to the beach
for weeks now
looking for your areola
and studied arrogance
under baking sand
and simultaneously
insulating myself

Your body
these clouds
your eyes

The sky, like this smudged thing
lately. Some residue on the Atlantic
the water’s thickness
the heat of the Atlantic
not as poignant
not as miserly
a texture like jelly fish
a thawed world of creatures
in the ocean’s mouth

Your hands, your curves
your drop and volume
this slippery water
your smile
the question mark on your face
and your peridot eyes
and tan
the texture of the sand
your lower lip
your messy tawny hair
a salt statue dusted

Creased linen
in a blue beach dress
floating under breeze
and goodbyes
flush of waves
coming and going
I live there now
in this hunger
in things I refuse
because of this

A dry world
after that walk back alone
on sand dear to my ankles
and fury, ground
Better, bitter glimpses
glances, looks
when that flesh finally yielded
the weight of you
my head aches writing this
you, distal and distanced
like the third person
a vagary almost
a mnemonic I use
somewhere between taste
good grief
a perversion of intellect now
something I can select for

Clouds, dragons in the sky
we both needed this reach
but I’m stuck
believing in irresolution
in seeds and not marriages
How did we move so quickly
like this butter light
These nooks of you
Claudia, Eve
your name doesn’t change
the value of a day
or the word creature
Ruth, Nicole
Julie, Terry Anne

I’m not sure
but I see fish
as mirror now
storm charges, waves
my cool ass
when you leave
salt on my mouth and eyes
beach wind
I feel this delay
old and new suspicions
an oyster in my mouth

How sad
to turn you into nostalgia
an itchy spot
I can’t get rid of
as I make sameness
I cannot be greater than

I don’t know
that love is beyond sentiment
I don’t know anything

Draw me a Veve:
Ati Dan, Ati Bon
Nenia Villi Crypta

Bellied Duality
Becomes Ironic

Seeing the sun rise
on the lifeguard stand
to know the quickness
of ruin
Smile martyr
Pleasure or truth
a superstition or
a finished sentence
Meme it to a term

To this morning glazed
with yesterday’s tiredness
what else will I have to foresee
and matrix
I want easy light, cool air
On my neck
the sun stretches heat
that becomes a glare on the beach
brightness from clouds
and waves
the sound of flushing

The air promises blush
and I want to photograph this
rosy light
I am looking for the definition
of blessed
where it stops
when it at last seems natural
to function with this idea
of editing

The poems in this batch are from the ongoing 'Draw me A Veve' series, but with a bit of a twist in perspective; these are more like songs with a specific point of view and melody that speaks of African heritage movements and physiology of love, romance and heart break, from Vodou synchretisms of ancient texts and religion like Judaism, ancient Greek Religion, Christianity from a Franco-Anglo-Spanish point of view, Islam, Zoroastrianism, Hinduism, Ibo, Yoruba, Congolese and Guanaan fusions: Zazi Min Cohin Da or The Sea Serpent and The Myth of Exposions.

Darryl Wawa: “I am a Port-au-Prince born Haitian-American who studied Photography and Creative Writing. I enjoy chocolate and good books. That said, maybe a movie is a good book. I love to work with images and words and their pairing.”

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