Guatemala Girl
for D.B.A.

i.
I am a divided girl
my girl, divided

who I think is- think of
as divine is divided

that is- is that how
she feels inside
is that how it is
inside her

who makes me whole
makes me wholly happy
is divided

though for several days
one week
a while ago

her dividedness did affect me
did go down the middle
of me too and my own
wholeness, all cracked up
was in bits

invited, advised to divide
love of her

instead of
in one container
asked to empty it out
here and there
she didn't care where

didn't work
for her nor me nor us

what are we left with
where is it at
where is she
at

she says, I am a divided girl
between faith in Christ and lust
between literature and science

might be why poems of hers
are not or might not be pearls
or eggs

why, when,
when they are pushed out
when they are laid
they are cracked

what is in them,
running this way,
that way, here and there

whole though, you could
with what is egg and cracked
and running, make omelet
or make cake or make milkshake

ii.
in a photograph I have of her
two friends on two sides of her

three of them pressed together
cheeks together

like this for a picture, for a moment
as well as until the paper fades
for as long as the picture lasts

upon the table she is sitting at
milkshake-like drink
in a tall glass with a straw

through it
she sucked in, sucked up
Guatemala

three of them visiting
three of them on a school trip

when she got to the bottom
of what was in the glass
glass in the photograph
will never be empty

in a moment which
has come, has gone

the noise of the last, of the end
at the bottom of the glass

and a belly full, tummy rumbling
muted thunder of satisfaction
some noise escaping
through this or that opening
requiring a hand
to cover a mouth

with the need for, "Excuse me!"
she’s polite you see


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written on Saturday, May 8, 2010
between 8:40 a.m. and 9:36 a.m.