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MICHAEL CAYLO-BARADI: A Theology of Darfur [Poetry]
Published on December 10, 2009Email To Friend    Print Version

This night, gods meditate
along the socket’s lips, assuming

a fly’s robust body, edging towards
the circle’s darker side. Still

partly attached to some flesh,
the skull rests with other bodies

watching the sky’s geography traffic
scents of human flesh arrayed

in different stages of expiration.
The fly moves in, expecting vermin

feast, or clarify peace inside
skulls that accumulate dusts of

ideas dispersing like rhymes
of echoes coiling around triggers.

In the Labyrinth of Serpent Tattoos 

We see a cobra’s head and tongue peeping under a
shirt’s back-collar, proposing assumptions the rest of its
body is sentenced, enslaved in spinal twists, hoping to free
itself, to a tree branch, or the branches of knowledge in
the head of the human-body it’s on.

They’re also around thighs, legs, or ankles, integral to
some modified, ancient symbol, now someone’s body-icon,
curling around some flower with thorns, ready to spit venom
on its petals: like love ready for anything, for the lick
that takes everything further

beyond temptations, resuscitations, assimilations.
They induce translucence of personality on uncovered flesh,
especially on topography of shirtless bodies, the gendered
shoulder, inviting latissimus, or around pornographies
of firm, erect nipples.

We don’t usually wonder about the hand that inked
them; because these serpents have already taken us into the
coily labyrinths of their obsidian gaze, to interpret our longings,
erosions, and the mutations we advance in that eye’s
phantom universe dipped in our closed eyes.

The Young In The Restless

He hears the city between them.
She is beside, outside him. There are

no decisions; their gestures trail towards
probabilities, some opportunities,

options. They do not want to know
more. But nothing is over. Everything

is inside, future; they will meet there
again, in other faces, words,

situations. Soon, they part
into night. The lights appear to have

halos without glass, where things could
reach in, without sounds of

breaking, shards falling into
objects that live behind dawns.


Michael Caylo-Baradi's articles have appeared in numerous publications including The Los Angeles Daily News. 

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