SONS OF ACHILLES
BY NABILA LOVELACE
If I think like the boy I take into me, then I know why
the blood appears. I am an apprentice in a city named
Kiss the Hands Who Kill
& Achilles is the father. His sons crawl out war
with fully loaded hands. I meet Achilles & the streetlights
hush. Bootleg Jordans grant a tongue for my speechless. Praise
the bootlegger.
//
Outside, the streetlights bend to lend
a shine. The block is hot & the boys
keep coming. I cannot catalogue a thing
he didn’t bore. Even the grass grows
his progeny.
//
Achilles & his sons. Achilles is his sons. Where his sons?
A sensual breeze.
A choking. The body
a smite.
//
Achilles, deathless man void moonshine, I cut
my veins & see his name. His sons: rampant, melodic. Sweet
negotiations. Love
the violence that births you. Hate
the chirp of the birds you eat.
Love me too, father. Love me.
I TURNED MYSELF INTO MYSELF & WAS JESUS
BY NABILA LOVELACE
From “Ego Tripping” by Nikki Giovanni
My bones converge to altar / bloated
in bad breathing habits / Bus
a table w/ me, Commandment 1 / Know
the way I shake wool / Get my hair braided
& spend 4 hours in the hands
of another black woman / wrapping each hair round
the other / cause my crown immaculate / while
a man prayed to me / quivering in need
of my looking / divine on a cross / My head
thorn full / Till
a wolf handed
me his whole fur / I handed him
off my head / my hair / I think
that’s what Daddy meant / by reciprocity
an inconvenience of need / that leads me
back to me / I don’t make the rules I am / Once
the deed / in need of repentance / was done
My funeral was
casket open / Buried
mouth open / gold fronts gaping
as to not mistake / the gates of heaven
the only way in / through me