KarMel
Scholarship 2008
|
Poem “Forget” By Tamikio Beyer |
Desciption of Submission: “Poem about Keshav Jiwani,
a gay, Hindu Pakistani man who faced deportation after 9/11/01” - Tamiko
|
I forget to eat. Sometimes I even
forget to breathe. –
DJ Keshav Jiwani, 1. When stones smash against
the apartment walls I gather Mummy’s
scarves – brilliant red flecked with gold I set the needle carefully down
Asha Bhosle’s voice high and delicate drowns the
curses I dance like the film stars dance like the myths Swirl
scarves around my body blood red
and glistening Tabla thrums and strings sing like kites in the
wind I dance night into dawn forget myself small boy with secrets become Sharmila Tagore with her diamond smile
My mother and sister laugh until tears run down their
cheeks Papa looks through me through the
wall where the mob shouts and I dance harder for forgetting forgetting who we are and
where we have always been
Only this heartstring Only these heartbeats * Inside Ahmed’s room I press
my hands against the cool stone floor Boys jumbled on
the bed Porn stolen from Ahmed’s American Uncle on the TV The man’s hands tangle in
her golden hair His face the map of pleasure Close
room heavy with the funk of boys I escape and Ahmed corners me in the
vestibule Takes out his glistening cock
– Take it you want it – And I do It fills my mouth sweetly
Drunk on
his smell and smooth brown thighs I ride until he explodes bitter milk in my mouth He
sneers Buttons his pants Tell anyone
and you die Out on the street his rough voice follows me and powerful I exhale the
scent of boy * After Mummy caught me
pinned under the taxi driver’s dank hulk
she hit me harder and longer than any man who had sunk his hot flesh
into me My sister found her with a tava in
her hands my curled body just light and space and blood on the kitchen floor 2. Here there are boys who
kiss me gently on the thin skin behind
my ear Who cup me close in movie theaters and on Dolores Park’s bright slopes When
afternoon sun pulls away
the fog’s sibilance I add muscle and flesh to each
of my battered bones * The records spin like
dervishes I mix coy flutes and the high voice of my childhood drowning in electronic pulse
the blond boys and girls with
flowing skirts dance their limbs have never needed to forget their feet
firmly planted in
concrete blend sound into light I
heartbeat I glisten * The towers are burning Penciled
drawings of men who smashed their bodies into flames flash on TV screens across
* In long lines we touch our
pockets heavy with Pakistani passports
and visa papers long expired creased one hundred times The immigration man’s
teeth are so white I am blinded My
body buzzes florescent
My mouth forms words I can hardly understand – Gay
Hindu Asylum Please – The immigration man’s
hands are pink and perfect They stamp a piece of paper and
slide it across the plastic desk into my own bitter brown
hands I deportee I refuge I stumble into
misty streets Lose my way * I forget to eat sometimes I even forget to
breathe let the phone ring let me stand here bones disguised by fog unremember myself
wait to lift
into darkness disappear into night’s thin
membrane heartbeat to still |