Sample Poems by Morgan Christie

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the tundra
bedtime story #3


he was just a pup when he left, is that what we call baby
wolves, and it wasn't an accident, he left because he
wanted to, and the other wolves warned him that the
world was no place for a lone wolf, that that was some
fabricated story to lure the arrogant astray, but he left
anyway; he left and didn't tell his mother because he
didn't want to hear what she'd have to say about it,
that's the thing about mothers; he set off and had his
sights set on the tundra, although he'd never seen it
before, so he headed north, he heard it was north,
and though he was still a pup he'd learned the
essentials before he left, so he never went hungry,
hunting alone wasn't that bad, he preyed on small
animals the first few months, rabbits and mongoose
mostly, as they wouldn't be too big a challenge, but
as he grew so did his hunger, so he stalked an old elk
when he was strong enough and approached it from
the front; the old elk didn't put up a fight, he laid
down as he told the once pup he was tired of running
and asked him to make it quick, the once pup went for
the old elk's jugular, but was unsuccessful, it was his
first real hunt remember, and the old elk gasped and
sighed shrieks of agony, but death came and the once
pup ate, not far from him was a butterfly who continuously
flew into the same tree, the very same spot over and
over again: it would take full flight, hit the tree, fall,
and repeat; once pup took notice and asked the butterfly
if she was blind, she said of course not, so he asked her
why she was hurting herself, she said she wanted to know
how it felt, so once pup finished his meal and headed back
on route for the tundra, hunting became second nature for
him, and before he knew it he was full grown and still
searching for the tundra, there came a point where he
questioned its existence, but it passed, years flew by and
once pup was at his strongest when it happened - an
impulse took over like the first time he asked his mother
what wolf tasted like, he needed to howl, but he refused
to howl at the moon, so he climbed the nearest peak and
waited until dawn then howled at the sun; long and louder
than he'd ever howled before, and when he stopped he
saw a butterfly he remembered seeing in a dream, he
thought, and he watched as it fluttered by before it
stopped midflight then looked back at him and asked
why he was hurting himself, and he began to back away
from the edge as he said under his breath, because i long
for the moment when i become changed.

---

alternate names for (young) black men
after danez smith
alternate names for black boys


18. miracles (to have
made it this far)
19. crowns that learned to bend
20. heals fused in pavement
21. our designated ignitions
22. that purple place, where sun meets earth
23. an ellipsis preceding the sentence
24. still gone
25. powdered obsidian
26. when bitten bone meets water
27. periling (read that both ways)
28. overgrown magnolia blooms
29. the perceived personification of hellhounds
30. giants until proven slain
31. undone promise
32. their unspoken conundrum
33. target practice
34. waking

---

almost uncle

1.
great grandmother

she bore one child and swore on jah
she'd protect the boy and teach him to:
shine your shoes every sunday and
press your shirt every monday and to
peel the pear before biting in to it and
to check for weevil in bread rice and
maize and to buy the freshest fish and
to carry it in paper tied with twine and
to stop by the central fruit vendor to
be sure you would get the best fruit to
buy cause only the best would be able to
afford that prime central spot and to
wash all of the food before supper and
to avoid bothering small water babies and
guppies cause they rhyme with duppies and
that's the sort of thing you don't bother and
to mind your grandfather while i'm gone and
not to worry at all i'll send for you soon
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
this is a new place and you must mind
the new way to act and never talk back
to boy dem no matter what they say and
to ignore the names they're just that and
to work harder than the rest so that you
might be okay and to never touch what
doesn't belong to you or raise your voice
around and give them a reason besides
the one they already have and she did
this until she couldn't anymore more she
had taught and protected the boy she bore

2.
grandfather

the boy became tall mon to the people
that mattered and something more to the
woman he loved// he kept his shoes shined
on sundays and shirts pressed on mondays
and rarely ate fish anymore// he never talked
back and swallowed the names whole
because they were just that and worked
harder than the rest and turned out
alright and didn't touch what wasn't his//
neither did the woman he married for
whom bore a daughter he loved and taught
the same lessons from his mother but the
day came where a lesson slipped right
out the car door// and a name made him
angry and so he raised his voice back and
even though the reason did not exist it
existed// he was painted a black gaudy
giant with fangs and claws and spitfire
that could shoot to the moon and curve
around to missile back to earth so boy
dem came in every way they could on
roofs and cars and foot and with aks and
handguns and enough to destroy a giant//
and they made him raise his hands and
leave his home for the world to see as
his pregnant love stood in fear and the
daughter he taught watched from the
window and all it would have taken
would be a flinchtrip or nothing at all//
so he fumbled to open the gate with
his feet so his hands could stay high
and seen and they wouldn't have a
reason to destroy what they came for

3.
grandmother

she was pregnant with a boy when
they came on the roof with the aks
and handguns and without a reason
and she lost the baby a week
later// she never wanted a son and
when that one escaped her she
never conceived another// like
she and her love were working in
tandem// she sat in warm water
when the baby left and cringed at
the sound it made sloshing between
her thighs and the sirens that still
rang and the voices stuck in her ear
from the night she believed herself
a black widow// and when boy dem
came without an apology but an
explanation for the misunderstanding
she told them to save it for the gone
son and all of the painted giants
whose homes would never feel quite
like home// and her daughter heard
her on the phone sometime later
weak and free and helpless and
strong when she whispered to the
mother of her love even when you
do everything right// she fought water
even when you do everything right
and when the daughter grew older
she often wondered if a small piece
of her mother was relieved that that
baby boy would never have to know
what she did// giants would always
be giants painted in a world where
doing everything right didn't exist

---

imagine


there are those who hate imagine
to spell sing or pen it imagine
that it is curt or too expansive imagine
the luxury to be without it imagine
that word feeling or nuance imagine

to never have to imagine
a lombar fly without wings imagine
two tongues spitting tiger lilies imagine
dark limbs easing down the road imagine
dragons being free imagine
spouted swimmable magma imagine
accountable premonitions imagine

knowing your child's nose imagine
the upward curve of their mouth imagine
their skin against yours imagine
the size of their ears imagine
if they had your eyes imagine

that some do not have to imagine
the luxury imagine
that you also lived in a world where imagine
you never had to spell sing or pen it imagine
imagine imagine imagine imagine
and then say it again imagine