Leialoha Apo Perkins Poems

He knew. A summons glues all. The air sucks itself dry,
then dies. There’s little time to write a note:
“To the country for the day -Don’t wait.'
...

The kitchen sink cracked
The air stalked out
His voice hung
Dead centre of her heart
...

Shot! Shot yourself!
Body punctured! Lumped! Limp! Gone!
Snapped! Life derring diddle doo!
What could a bullet, cosmos
...

Who knows what insects Mandelstam kissed, blessing,
before eating them? (What he drank to down it all?)
What he ate: Ants with their delicate air, sleek black
body parts, snipped waist, massive heads eyeing who, what, there?
...

One by one – husband, lovers, friends
Wrote, slicing truths wafer thin
From turds of brute lies – courage
Incised by knives. Every turn
...

Grief has no face, no feet. Its hands, bound, tongue paralyzed -
if withered is the heart. Eating is from inside small paned windows
looking out and seeing snow descend, bend trees to sag. Snow: glass.
...

How many times must the NKVD knock
on the door? Snap to attention, boot heels
clicking, the brass knuckles of their belts glint
on the polished oak floor? The china quivers,
...

Trembling, furious, quaking Fundaments
- silently screaming eagles was Akhmatova.
“This man is a Firebrand! A Torch! Poet!
He loves peacocks, even song, old maps!
...

So you sat in his living room, the Poet’s,
and noticed his gaze consumed
you and you dared not look back?
You averted looking back, held yourself
...