Requiem for Iron Man Vasquez

Transmitted on Monday, April, 13th, 2009 at 10:06 pm in Heroes & Myth , Poetry

1. Skeleton Tree

From the time I was five, I been big—meat
and bone and concrete clumps instead of hands.
My Ma, she did her damndest not to beat
me.  Even when, most times, I couldn’t stand

the sight of her, and like the little punk
I always knew I was, I swatted her
thin, pale thighs with my hands—they were tree trunks
then, even at that age. I painted her

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