Page 18
By Jack Joseph Smith
A SIOBHAN POEM
To know justice in my name
I grew out of the taste in the sand
In a place film recommends
As the wildest in the western world
The ocean is a fear for those whose feelings fail
To acknowledge the beginnings of fire in the soul
But I watched white birds cover colors and crests
While the mystic sense of the sea's,
hovering creation, hurt then healed
For my small hand seized thoughts attended by the wind,
when reguarding purpose rather than a yearning distance
Long before I was born to dance my way out of walking,
even computers began to contrive my father as nomadic
(Perhaps seeing with the same four seasons
only desperate women and weak men
was too painful under his sun)
Yet I wanted a strong dad
So I could kick his shins
And poke his eyes out too
(How smart is societys' voice,
Like in a chant
when living infinity isn't a choice)
Sometime after speech made paragraphs,
out of give, get, gallant, and gain;