I Eat Wheat Bread

i.
Scaffolding
I write poems and afterwards
remove the paper

Lorna Goodison said I could
said I should

art like that of Gabriel Fauré's
like anything at all that is sublime
needs nothing to hold it up
or to stand on or to walk on

what is angelic, hovers just above the earth
is just above my head

heaven is as near, is that near
as well as above blue skies

I write poems and afterwards
remove the paper

Lorna Goodison said I could
said I should--so I must

walking on water
is a matter of trust

ii.
there are those
within this community about me
who cannot be trusted

who would steal Christ off the cross
as the saying goes
if the back is turned

had to choose quite early
to be vigilant

after my car was broken into
right under my nose

some hand had riffled through
and over turned
the things about the car inside

same hands had pulled the lever
released the hood
then lifted it

after my battery no doubt

then it was, when I looked out
shouted, and whomever it was, fled

whomever that was
and others of like mind
among the people of this community

there is among them
enemies, watching
awaiting opportunities
to strike against me
or snatch from me

iii.
stretch of black skin
enough to cover a drum
to cover someone
head to toe

however large they grow or go or bloat
woman with a child inside
in such a skin

imported from the continent
from the mother land

must keep skins like this on hand
to make a drum, to beat
to make someone tick

same skin, black skin
covers my dick

when it is excessively large
the head of it
is cherry ripe
is cherry red


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
3:16 p.m. 14.04.08