Sunday, August 4, 2013

Poetry: "Septipus" by Chip Livingston


For my brother N.

You are celebrating your birthday today in Montevideo, Uruguay with friends and family. I miss you. This poem from Chip Livington's poetry volume Crow-Blue, Crow-Black reminded me of you.

"Septipus"*
(for the seven-armed Uruguayan)
  1. One to hold the mate; to stop a taxi; to extend an index finger to push up loose-eared eyeglasses;
  2. One to crook the thermos, pour the water, and redirect cooked yerba with a silver bombilla; to light a cigarette;
  3. One to puff the Rojo; to gesture "WWWHat a pity!!";
  4. One to fine tune antennae and radiate little summer shocks; to tune the radio to María Rita, tango electronica, or The Cranberries;
  5. One to good-guard new amigos from uneven stones and otras cosas peligrosas, bothers and malaria; to offer the growing moon, fireworks;
  6. One to scribble a waitress a phone number; to correct a stress from an Italian accent;
  7. One of rare perspective to photograph, spell out poetry, convert incantations, cast ordinary objects artesanal
Together these brown arms shoulder the mochila,
sign shipping orders, protect candles, smudge a room
with incense; they envelop children in abrazos.
Embrace me also in these seven alchemical arms.
Make the tambores jealous. Take my hand as we
walk along the rambla becoming a new metal. 

Besos!


*Copyright © 2012 Chip Livingston

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