30th
Things I Didn’t Like 10 Years Ago But Like Now #015: Harvey Milk
My mama’s first love was
a vile ex-Marine,
but the blood and guts in her heart
could have washed Pilate’s hands clean.
Her lips were like an anvil
dropped from a cliff,
the fall had almost killed him,
and then that anvil hit.
“Your father’s love was like a lantern
lit on the brave dark ship,
and my love was like the sea,
surging for one taste of his wick.
And today, your thirteenth birthday,
I can see through these tears,
that, my son, you’ll be a soldier
before five more years.
Then your love will be the lantern
that guides your ship through the night.
Don’t forget the sea loves a soldier
who’s not afraid to die.”
Your love is like an anvil:
cold and black as the earth.
My love is like the hammer,
forging shapes of new life on your curves.
My mama told me,
when I was fresh from the womb,
“Boy you’ll be a soldier.
Judging by the size of my wound.”
Mind blown.
