The Origin of Our Firstborns

The Origin of Our Firstborns

A Poem by Solomon

The color of an iris 
flecked with black
wings of a humming
bird, ruby throated
opium firebird, hanging 
by a long black twine
ripped from the seem 
of a hound's. Collar
bones ratting in the
rafters above the stables
wrapped in red prom dresses,
where your mother prayed
to the stars, that night, tattooed 
onto my belly. She kissed it
as the horses croaked in the shadows,
as the wind howled like bloodhounds
with fresh pheasants in their mouths,
as my hair scratched her eyes
and set them on fire like lanterns
on New Years Eve, as fireworks
burnt holes in her mouth and 
she said that I loved her. 

© 2012 Solomon

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Added on April 19, 2012
Last Updated on April 20, 2012
Tags: china, poem, hawaii, girl, age, death, story



Honolulu, HI

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