Audre’s Apples
For audre lorde
as i swallow
the last morsel of a little green apple
blessed with myrrhed prayers & libations on an african altar
in a gothic cathedral
where with banners from all corners of our country
freed from the prejudice of a dozen years’ politics of greed
thousands gather on king’s day
to ground sorrow at a sister’s recent passing
(lorde we testify)
drum up her spirit along a cascading rainbow
to the orishas’ paradise
the juice snakes sweetly down my throat & circles my veins
it loosens my tingling toes stiffened
by neuropathy
armed only with a white candle that flares its last flames
i march out into the dark hell of
our big apple
Notes:
This poem is part of “Déjà Vu: A Folio on Assotto Saint.” You can read the rest of the portfolio in the May 2023 issue. All poems and essays in the portfolio are from Sacred Spells: Collected Works by Assotto Saint (Nightboat Books, 2023). Reprinted with permission of Nightboat Books.
Source: Poetry (May 2023)