Tiphanie Yanique, Last Yanique Nation

Tiphanie's Smile
(source: Mosaic Magazine)
no copyright infringement intended

splendid poem, like a double fugue, the two themes weaved together within lines, even within words

The pit in my womb where the doctor lover
says is my self, is not a nation
My soul is called Che, as in Guevara,
but my body has not died for the nation
I told my enemy I loved her, as
I love my nation Guevara,
was no coward which means he tended towards
fool I want to be a fool in love and thus
a fool for this nation My soul doesn’t
care about nations My soul makes its country
in the backyard or bedroom of wherever
I carry it. My islands do not make
a nation.  Yet my soul guards
their bodies, their waters. That then
is the nation. Yes, the pink pit
does bear the possibility of nations.
Che rests its teeth into my belly. I feel
the love and remember Guevera,
the man, had no nation but nations
He died for the end of our nations
I speak my soul’s only language, dear
doctor revolutionary, in the name
of no nation Despite the proxy
of vows I am both body and nation.

(from her poetry collection Wife)

(source: TiphanieYanique.com)

(Tiphanie Yanique)