Friday from the Archives: “Political Sonata” a poem by Christopher Davis with photography by Tama Hochbaum in NCLR 1999
Christopher Davis, Professor Emeritus at UNCC, sent us this poem for our 1999 issue. He has published four volumes of poetry: Tyrant of the Past and the Slave of the Future, The Patriot, A History of the Only War, and Oath, published locally by Main Street Rag Press in 2020, as well as many selected pieces in journals.
Political Sonata
Last night, I stumbled into a coffeehouse.
On the stage, a woman squatted, her white hair
like wind-torn cumulus, her eyes
closed, her legs crossed under her muumuu.
She’d just asked her voyeurs to breathe deeply,
open their heart chakras, teach the world to sing.
Then she recited. Each line had love and space
and God as She. She called her poems prayers.
She kneaded hair-wisps this way, that way,
like Einstein. That gentle smile. Outside,
in the bars and alleys, the sexiest of guys,
dark-haired and smelling sweet, ripped off
their admirers, especially those soft boys
whom they liked. A waitress gave a Christian
too much cash back, making change, but who
said anything? I liked the poet, even though
her work revealed perfection of the life.
She helped me feel weaker than I am,
or ever can be. I needed to be perched
upon your knee, my friend, feeling
the awkwardness of two bodies,
neither of us symbols, both of us mortals,
like the captain of that Russian freighter
showing off his brand-new Japanese hi-fi,
your lips inside my ear shell
whispering the sound of surf
as on the rain-wet street the tires
of passing hearses softly sobbed.
Add the 1999 issue to your collection at home.
