La Sangre Fundamental Poem by Tina Cartwright

The blackbird on the aerial outside
Knows many things
The butcher yesterday knows
things I never will
The feel of the knife
The peel of flesh from bone
The severed connections of life
The strength of a man
What it’s like to wield

I am trying to uncover
the marketplace of my time
avoiding lines in social networking
where everyone’s a star
a dream-liver, creator

If the wiry mind
Settles and gathers dust
Sending out roots
in sandy earth
Wait till the sun’s low
Cut them off, just
where they are strongest
Pull them out
by their tails

Split them in two

Tether them to the
clothesline

Wait for the wind
The creaking of steel

Wait for the thread
of night

Looping over buildings,
clots of earth

Wait for the neighbour’s
warbling to cease

Let their tails whip
Like eels through water


Then pull them down

Twist and tie them
to spindly, sturdy
branches

Build a shelter
Against the clouds,
the thunder, the
lightning
and the sour hills.