R.
- R.
Dry grass tickles me,Rough housing my face
I kiss dirt and eat earth,Though I was
Raised to desire angels,I've found this earthly heaven
Rubbing sticks together,Watching the trees burn.
And they say witchcraftDoesn't last, but we cast spells
In curse words, dirty looks,And bruises.
We call it love and yell fromThe rooftops of our lungs,
Chase each other againstThe flames and our shadows.
Our boys' game,It ends as most do,
When one of us becomes a manAs he leaves the other crying;
A mark, or at leastA dusty glow behind. [End Page 30]
Darrel Alejandro Holnes is from Panama City, Panama, and Houston, Texas. He holds an MFA in Creative Writing from University of Michigan where he was a Cornwell Fellow. His play, The Burning Room, winner of the National Playwriting Award from WSU, was a participating entry in the Kennedy Center for the Arts Annual College Theater Festival. His poetry has appeared in The Caribbean Writer and NANOFiction, among other journals. He continues to work as a writer and emerging performance artist in Ann Arbor, Michigan, as a Zell Post-Graduate Fellow.
