Elvis Alves
(USA)
Perfect Date
You ask me about my
perfect date.
How it would look?
I say that it would take place in a country other
than our own; a city to be exact.
Preferably at the setting of
the sun.
I picture us holding hands,
strolling along the emptying marketplace
of Paris or Abidjan.
Ota Benga: Therapy
America had become a cage to him, and he longed to be free once more.
–Frederick Drimmer on Ota Benga
African man trapped in a cage and put on display at the Bronx Zoo.
Tell me what you see?
I see them but they do not see me. Otherwise,
I would not be in captivity.
You are witnessing the presence of ignorance;
the demise of civility.
Indeed, I am witness to these and it is
killing me. Plus there is insanity. I want to be free.
African man trapped in a cage and put on display
at the Bronx Zoo, you speak so lucidly. Tell me
more about the gaze and what it is that you see?
I see humanity staring back at me. And calamity in
the wake of rapid destructive entities: capitalism,
war, and poverty.
Where is the escape, there must be a way out
of this misery? African man trapped in a cage,
answer me.
Put a man in a hole that he did not dig
and he is bound to explode violently.
You sound angry; Tell me how
you feel?
I see that you are the therapist extraordinaire.
Do you want to psychoanalyze me? Well, write
that I am from a land far from here. Survival is a must,
at any cost it is necessary. Kings rule with iron fists
and experience great kicks in turning tricks.
Wait…Wait. You are describing a fantasy.
No…No. It is my reality. Don’t think that my mind
is gone just because my life is void of tomorrows. I never had to run
from a gun until I was captured by one.
I was running from those who were after me—to enslave me.
I was running to my wife and children, trying to save them
from the fate that became me.
What is the fate you talk about?
Can’t you see? I am trapped in a cage and my
humanity is no longer part of me.
Psychoanalyze me. Tell the world how I used
to be.
I will tell that you came from a land far from here.
That kings rule with iron fists and get kicks from
turning tricks. And that you never had to run from a gun
until you saw me.
Frustration on Board
I entertain myself by beating
my left big toe with the reed of
the hibiscus flower plant until it
becomes purple like the teeth of the
old man who forgot what it was he
chewed just seconds ago.
I laugh twice and then cry two more
days because sorrow seems
forever on my path especially when it
rains ashen candlesticks from a sky one
inch above my head.
There is no touching like two virgins
married and one suddenly dies before
the consummation of the bond,
too much excitement for him.
And the victim must be a he because
only a man gets excited about sex.
It is a chore for a woman
and sometimes she does not want
to take part in it because there are
too many other chores in her life.
So I continue to beat my left big
toe purple and I am excited.
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BIO
Elvis Alves is the author of the poetry collection Bitter Melon and the chapbook Ota Benga. He was nominated twice for a Pushcart Prize in poetry. His poetry has appeared in several journals and magazines. He lives and teaches in Newtown, PA, USA.