Ernesto Mercer



No one begs like a brother
Heart in mouth, mouth enflamed
Flames fry microphone
Microphone sizzles wires
Wires fail & heart jacks
The lolo & gotta go
Crosstown of this shit real
Quick: that brother croons at
Gold lipped & honey tongued
That sister he probably
Should not be with, but is:
Brother scats doowop blue
Hallelujah sings hymns
Sanctified by the saints
Of the break-up in
That broke down store
Front on the dead end
All brothers come to bye & bye
Going hard to the bridge
On the one: Babybaby
babybaby at that Sister
He-just-don't-love all
-the-time (if by
Love you mean infinity
& not the icky sticky
Funnyhouse mirror fish
Bone in the throat Hot
Foot Powder possum clutch
Fuck, don't let that shit
In: the Heart, breaking out
Its nails love), that brother
At the beg is caught up
Stinky in the up from
The bucket's bottom crust
Where that snake hisses in
The rust that she smells
Like the Good Thing
Old brothers used to sing
Blue moon down upon
Heads hunched in turned
Up collars crowding the burning
Barrel, Hot off 101 in
The Hawk's wing sweep
Down brick alley ways,
Singing into the flash
& smoke of the flames.

photo by Thomas Sayers Ellis

Ernesto Mercer is a poet, playwright & performer of various things usually involving events or words, sometimes both at the same time. He lives by his wits & imagination on I-95: Bronx to Cape Fear. Malembe Nyale!


Published in Volume 10:2, Spring 2009.