HICCUP
And try as I might to take seven sips of water
three to four times in twenty-four hours
my childhood comes back to me
in a hiccup that shakes up
my instinct
as the cop does the scamp
Disaster
tell me about disaster
tell me about it
My mother, wanting a son with good table manners
Hands on the table
bread is not to be cut
bread is to be broken
bread is not to be wasted
the bread of God
the bread of the sweat on your Father’s brow
the bread of the bread
A bone is eaten discretely and with care
a stomach must be sociable
and a sociable stomach
doesn’t burp
a fork is not a toothpick
it is forbidden to wipe your nose
so others can see
so other can know
and sit up straight
a well-brought-up nose
doesn’t sweep the plate
And then and then
and then in the name of the Father
of the Son
of the Holy Ghost
at the end of each meal
And then and then
and then disaster
tell me about disaster
tell me about it
My mother, wanting a son memorandum
If you don’t know your history lesson
you can’t go to church
Sunday
in your Sunday clothes
This child will bring shame to our name
this child will be our name of God
Be quiet
Haven’t I told you to speak French?
the French of France
the French of the French
the French French
Disaster
tell me about disaster
tell me about it
My Mother, wanting a son
son of his mother
You haven’t greeted the neighbor
your shoes are dirty again
and I have to find you in the street
on the grass or in the Savana
in the shade of a Monument for the Dead
playing
squabbling with some kid
with some kid who hasn’t been baptized
Disaster
tell me about disaster
tell me about it
My mother, wanting a son very do
very ré
very mi
very fa
very sol
very la
very si
very do
ré-mi-fa
sol-la-si
do
I remember now you hadn’t yet done
your vi-o-lin lesson
A banjo
You say a banjo
how do you say
a banjo
you did say
a banjo
No, sir
you should know it’s not tolerated in our home
neither ban
neither jo
neither gui
neither tar
the mulattos don’t do that
leave it for the negros