Girmay - Kingdom animalia: poems
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Kingdom animalia: poems: summary, description and annotation
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i. A book of dirt : Kingdom animalia ; Elegy ; Abuelo, mi muerto ; Dear Minnie, dear ms. ; Small letter ; Zewdit ; Starlight multiplication ; Night ; On living -- ii. A book of beautiful monsters : Swans, as the light was changing ; For Patrick Rosal who wore a dress & said ; March, March ; Noche de lluvia, San Salvador ; La boda del mar y arena ; A blooming tree ; St. Elizabeth ; & ; Ode to the little r ; Running home, I saw the planets -- iii. A book of graves & birds : Science ; The dream ; Self-portrait as the snail ; Elegy for the stone ; Portrait of the woman as a skein ; Three girls, one of them a coward girl ; Self-portrait as the snake ; Self-portrait as the airplane ; Central City Senior Center, New Orleans ; Self portrait as the pirates gold ; Self-portrait as the snakes skin ; To the husband ; This morning the small bird brought a message from the other side -- iv. A book of erased cities : Elegy in gold ; They tell me you are gone ; The doorway of our mothers leg leads me to you, brother ; Mrs. S ; Night, for Henry Dumas ; Break ; English class ; Mississippi burial, on the ferry to Algiers ; Explaining the land mine to the small child ; To waste my hands ; Praise song for the donkey ; I am not ready to die yet ; & when we woke ; On kindness -- v. A fable : On the shape of the sentence -- vi. The book of one small thing : Ars poetica.;The poems in this highly anticipated second book are elegiac poems, as concerned with honoring our dead as they are with praising the living. Through Aracelis Girmays lens, everything is animal: the sea, a jukebox, the desert. In these poems, everything possesses a system of desire, hunger, a set of teeth, and language. These are poems about what is both difficult and beautiful about our time here on earth.
Girmay: author's other books
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Girmay
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Table of Contents
for Ade Zuphan
Thus, from the war of nature, from famine and death, themost exalted object which we are capable of conceiving,namely, the production of the higher animals, directly follows.There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers,having been originally breathed into a few forms or into one;and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according tothe fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endlessforms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, andare being, evolved.
Charles Darwin, The Origin of Species
The framework of bones being the same in the hand of a man, wing of a bat, fin of the porpoise, and leg of the horse,the same number of vertebrae forming the neck of the giraf fe and of the elephant,and innumerable other such facts, at once explain themselves on the theory of descent
Charles Darwin, Origin of Species
i. a book of dirt
Kingdom Animalia
When I get the call about my brother,
Im on a stopped train leaving town
& the news packs into mefreight
though its him on the other end
now, saying finefine
Im on a stopped train leaving town
& the news packs into mefreight
though its him on the other end
now, saying finefine
Forfeit my eyes, I want to turn away
from the hair on the floor of his house
& how it got there Monday,
but my one heart falls
like a sad, fat persimmon
dropped by the hand of the Turczyns old tree.
from the hair on the floor of his house
& how it got there Monday,
but my one heart falls
like a sad, fat persimmon
dropped by the hand of the Turczyns old tree.
I want to sleep. I do not want to sleep. See,
one day, not today, not now, we will be gone
from this earth where we know the gladiolas.
My brother, this noise,
some love [you] I loved
with all my brain, & breath,
will be gone; Ive been told, today, to consider this
as I ride the long tracks out & dream so good
from this earth where we know the gladiolas.
My brother, this noise,
some love [you] I loved
with all my brain, & breath,
will be gone; Ive been told, today, to consider this
as I ride the long tracks out & dream so good
I see a plant in the window of the house
my brother shares with his love, their shoes. & there
he is, asleep in bed
with this same woman whose long skin
covers all of her bones, in a city called Oakland,
& their dreams hang above them
a little like a chandelier, & their teeth
flash in the night, oh, body.
my brother shares with his love, their shoes. & there
he is, asleep in bed
with this same woman whose long skin
covers all of her bones, in a city called Oakland,
& their dreams hang above them
a little like a chandelier, & their teeth
flash in the night, oh, body.
Oh, body, be held now by whom you love.
Whole years will be spent, underneath these impossible stars,
when dirts the only animal who will sleep with you
& touch you with
its mouth.
Whole years will be spent, underneath these impossible stars,
when dirts the only animal who will sleep with you
& touch you with
its mouth.
Elegy
What to do with this knowledge
that our living is not guaranteed?
that our living is not guaranteed?
Perhaps one day you touch the young branch
of something beautiful. & it grows & grows
despite your birthdays & the death certificate,
& it one day shades the heads of something beautiful
or makes itself useful to the nest. Walk out
of your house, then, believing in this.
Nothing else matters.
of something beautiful. & it grows & grows
despite your birthdays & the death certificate,
& it one day shades the heads of something beautiful
or makes itself useful to the nest. Walk out
of your house, then, believing in this.
Nothing else matters.
All above us is the touching
of strangers & parrots,
some of them human,
some of them not human.
of strangers & parrots,
some of them human,
some of them not human.
Listen to me. I am telling you
a true thing. This is the only kingdom.
The kingdom of touching;
the touches of the disappearing, things.
a true thing. This is the only kingdom.
The kingdom of touching;
the touches of the disappearing, things.
Abuelo, Mi Muerto
Abuelo, Ive walked three nights
in the last city you breathed in,
trying to read every thing:
in the last city you breathed in,
trying to read every thing:
the birds, the buildings, the rain. & still
no luck, which means nothing
more than I am dense & far from you
no luck, which means nothing
more than I am dense & far from you
though this is your town, your
Sunday-walk haberdashery,
your way back home from the train, & trees
Sunday-walk haberdashery,
your way back home from the train, & trees
you passed a thousand times
like a child below the gray gaze of its mothers.
How could I be lost here
like a child below the gray gaze of its mothers.
How could I be lost here
in your jackal-mouthed, murderous
streets who swallowed your children, Abuelo,
while the church bells marked the parish & hour?
streets who swallowed your children, Abuelo,
while the church bells marked the parish & hour?
The uncles & aunts strewn
about like funeral carnations
Sometimes it is so hard to hear you
about like funeral carnations
Sometimes it is so hard to hear you
in the outside language of crows
though my windows an open eye.
Hard to understand
though my windows an open eye.
Hard to understand
what the hawk is spelling
as it moves just so in the sky:
as it moves just so in the sky:
X
My head is thick, but I know
you are telling me something
when I hear the rooster crow,
you are telling me something
when I hear the rooster crow,
or the hawk there circling.
Mostly its the birds who send me looking
for the lost room of your face. The last memory I have of you
Mostly its the birds who send me looking
for the lost room of your face. The last memory I have of you
was in El Toro. My mother clipped your toenails
off an old & naked foot, while the other one
slept in a basin on the floorsluggish
off an old & naked foot, while the other one
slept in a basin on the floorsluggish
catfish, sleeping fish
like a fishermans catch. In the bucket,
alive but nearly dying. Do you remember?
like a fishermans catch. In the bucket,
alive but nearly dying. Do you remember?
Do you remember? This
is my only proof. Memory
tells me I am yours. I am yours,
is my only proof. Memory
tells me I am yours. I am yours,
Abuelo. If the pigeons can wear
the same face in every city,
the same red feet, singing
the same face in every city,
the same red feet, singing
the same songs & so on & so on,
cant you come back, Abuelo?
Tell me which are the graves
cant you come back, Abuelo?
Tell me which are the graves
I should visit & clean. Which river
I should bring my flowers to.
Which of the miracles
I should bring my flowers to.
Which of the miracles
fills your marigold chest?
Which is the joke you loved the most?
What is the name of the desert
Which is the joke you loved the most?
What is the name of the desert
I should thank? Come back
in a body I can see from the window
of this crowded city train.
in a body I can see from the window
of this crowded city train.
Board the train. Sit
beside me for a while & tell me things.
Do not let me mistake you
beside me for a while & tell me things.
Do not let me mistake you
for a shadow or a gull.
& if I start to pass you on the street,
Abuelo, shout my name, shout
& if I start to pass you on the street,
Abuelo, shout my name, shout
it, please. Tug my shirt or hair.
Make me turn. Just a moment.
Send me home with a message
Make me turn. Just a moment.
Send me home with a message
my mother will believe. Wear a body
I can see with my slowest eye. Speak a language
whose words I cannot help but wear
I can see with my slowest eye. Speak a language
whose words I cannot help but wear
like a family feather
in my black
& grandfather hair.
in my black
& grandfather hair.
Dear Minnie, Dear Ms.
for Minnie Riperton & Ms. Lucille
This earth
of the dagger-toothed & hawks,
whose names we know,
taking bones for diamonds,
full of hair & snakes,
earth eating you, slowly,
below the sound
of gold horns.
This earth
with a jaw in its hand.
Brown-chariot, take-you-home
earth, chew you up
with the quiet work
of animals & trees, underworld
churning you through
the dark engines
of its appetite. This
earth we opened up
& buried you in, our
treasure, we miss
you, we miss you
with all life. This night
we think we will never close
again. We are pinned open
like a scientists moths
to leave you there dressed
in a box & earth around you.
This box earth, coffin
earth. Teeth earth eat
your chest through, laced
by the wrangle of beetles & worms
& ants who carry your bright pieces
like market cloth over their heads
to feed you to the queen
in the deeper corridors
of mysteries & dirt.
Trust the queen is you.
Trust the mud is you,
& the soft, silver afro of the dandelion.
& the soft, silver afro of the dandelion.
Trust the grass-whistle might be
your speech, high as the whistle
of the whale. Trust
your speech, high as the whistle
of the whale. Trust
well know your shape, whatever species
in you answers when we put our faces
to the dirt & call you by
your old & human name.
in you answers when we put our faces
to the dirt & call you by
your old & human name.
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