Sunday, July 10, 2022

Ancestry

My son and grandson

 

Ancestry" by Fred LaMotte 

My DNA results came back.

Just as I suspected, 

my great great grandfather

was a monarch butterfly.

Much of who I am is still 

wriggling under a stone.

I am part larva, but 

part hummingbird too.

There is dinosaur tar in 

my bone marrow.

My golden hair sprang out 

of a meadow in Palestine.

Genghis Khan is my fourth cousin,

but I didn't get his dimples.

My loins are loaded with 

banyan seeds from Sri Lanka,

but I descended from Ravanna, 

not Ram.

My uncle is a mastodon.

There are traces of white people 

in my saliva.

3.7 billion years ago I swirled 

in hydrogen dust,

dreaming of a planet overgrown 

with lingams and yonis.

More recently, say 60,000 B.C.

I walked on hairy paws 

across a land bridge

joining Sweden to Botswana.

I am the bastard of the sun and moon.

I can no longer hide my heritage of

raindrops and cougar scat.

My mud was molded with your grandmother's tears.

I was the brother

who marched you to the sea 

and sold you.

I was the merchant from Savannah

and the cargo of blackness.

I was the chain.

Admit it, you have wings, 

vast and crystal,

like mine, like mine.

You have sweat, dark and salty,

like mine, like mine.

You have secrets silently 

singing in your blood,

like mine, like mine.

Don't pretend that earth 

is not one family.

Don't pretend we never hung 

from the same branch.

Don't pretend we do not ripen 

on each other's breath.

Don't pretend we didn't 

come here to forgive.

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