Mid-Air: List 6

It’s like a huge asteroid fell from the sky
blasted a hole in the earth.

Force my arms to loosen. Easy easy.
Let go of my tense grip. Chill chill.

Spooked birds squawk from nests.

Startled squirrels scatter up trees.

Riders go down squealing.

He retreats &
gives Kiana the evil eye for stealing me.

Kiana laughs while my mouth blabs. Can’t help it.

And then, then I saw Darius
twitching on the ground.

I take pictures of neighbors on their porches
People walking from Willie’s Beer & Groceries
Leftie & his boys cruising like a motorcycle gang
Grady & the fellas skateboarding
Kids daring Devil’s Slope
The lawn after I mow it
Zoomie & BJ pruning okra
Folks waving thanks for Aunt Terri’s vegetables
Grady pulling the wagon
Vendors selling goods at the farmers market
Uncle Vent & his boat
Aunt Terri in her garden
But mostly
of Kiana.

I push the button. A hiss sprays out as I scrawl
ISAIA-AHH-AHH-AHH!

I pull up on the pole, turn the knob thing, and whoa —
a small fish dangles and wriggles like it’s fighting for its life.

My face in her hands gets clobbered with kisses.

A pause. A pause so brief and so loud,
I can’t help but hear what they don’t say.

They’re quiet, faces contorting, sorting
through my words like
sifting through sand for a shell.

Dad repeats low,
I could’ve lost you. I could’ve lost you? I could’ve lost you —
gaining momentum until he says it one last time —

He
grabs me holds me
close
buries my head in his chest his
heart beats hard and loud like a
battle cry
his arms around me strong like a
fortress I don’t push away
we stay like this locked in place
both of us
breathing heaving sighing
for seconds minutes months
until
the tight in my neck shoulders throat
until
everything everything
seeps from me slow like water and
drips to the floor
pools around our feet and evaporates
then
finally he lets go.

Today, I bawl.

Drew looks up from his bike. Eyes grow big like golf balls,
then deflate fast. Shouldn’t scare so easily. He stands.

He kicks the pedal again. ’Cause — his eyes shine like a
tiger’s — of that look on your face that I thought maybe,
hoped maybe, you wouldn’t have. But when I did tell you,
you did, bro. You had disgust. Pity. I oun’t need that.

Not to me. Not like that. But he doesn’t give me time to
answer. — Lapse of car insurance. No car insurance!

He crosses his arms defiantly.

We pull up in the car line. I grab the door handle &
glimpse my painted nails. Immediately I hear Grady’s voice.

Suddenly, I’m in the throes of hundreds of kids walking tall,
laughing loud, hovering about, gabbing & joking.

I’m frozen for seconds, for minutes in front of this
humongous beast of a school.

Naw, he ain’t rock. So don’t start tripping. Drew stuffs his
hands into his pockets. I know you’re a purist and this
ain’t one of your “authentic” ones, but —
Bruh, I say, cutting him off. I ain’t got a Prince. Thanks.