Juvenilia

When I was in college, I fancied myself a poet. I told people they could call me flip. Looking back, I should have said Ishmael.

I have no idea what any of them might mean, but I feel like re-reading them and practicing my power-typing.

I. Exile

from the Negeb he journeyed by stages toward Bethel, to the place
between Bethel and Ai where he had earlier pitched his tent. (Gen 13:3)

Dromedaries up and over, up and over twice.
Bethel tent Ai. The camels had a drink.
Hagar, barefoot, hauled the sacks, in surges, through the mud.

Inside the tent, Sarai heard Abram's murmurings,
watched his face tense with benedictions: the soundings of I am.
Shaken so, she broke a beveled ewer,
calling Hagar to collect the shattered edges.

Slowly Hagar rose from chopping
fish still looking for the moon
eerie and light, who was that calling?
the lord who commanded the fish?
the man who led the camel?
No, it was her, Her, and where was the moon?
Lot and the camel became one
and in yellowing vision like sackcloth she fell.

In alarm, he yoked the camel to the pot of swelling lentil soup.
He gathered Hagar in his arms and called to Abram's tent.
A backlit beard pointed out, casting shadows even in
that unmooned night; on Lot's black burden,
her rounded skin and bone.

II. Slave Song

His hand will be against everyone; and everyone's hand against him; and he will live at odds with all his kin. (Gen. 16:12)

She heard everything.
She heard Sarai when she came for the whip,
She heard her curse the camel, the pot, the lost lentils.
She heard Lot leave.
She heard whaling in her belly.
She heard Abram snore.

She heard Escape!

(slaves listening, scattered, caught
the sinking edge of echoes)