Laura Tohe
I Have Slept In the Arms of Your Mountains
I
i was fuckin’
fearless in europe
or
just naive
when I landed on
the shore
like an anxious red
columbus
one night i took
shelter in the arms of your mountains
the alps appeared
in my childhood books--
clocks,
knives, chocolate
i read stories of
how they protected your world
from the war outside
there are many ways
to desire mountains
and why they would
be missed
i was a dark
traveler in copenhagen and bern then
in your country we
came across a celebration
where we entered a
parade on a whim
nobody stared
the
villagers treated us right as new snow
you don’t get that
in america
in bern you were
the boy crossing the street
as i searched for
the way out
we passed
in the aisle of the market
you,
with your chocolate sweet
me, with cigarettes and
chardonnay
i swear i’ve seen
you before
in bern I danced
with a man
who traveled the
world
playing soccer
at dawn he drove me
to a lake
“in
Suisse, ‘lac,’” he said
we stepped lightly
in the rain
and felt lac de
morat rocking the houses
i still remember
how he looked up phrases for me in English
II
you were learning
the cello then
schubert, bach, mozart
lived with you
their notes fragrant as
yellow flowers
that drift in the pasture of your neighbor’s farm
they are absorbed
by the walls in every room of your house
stored in your
artist
hands shaped by music
you said mine were
expressive i noticed you
noticing them
did you know i
dreamt you into my life?
you
rose and dissolved
thin as the pollen wings of butterflies
oh, it was too
early to leave that luxurious cocoon
i believe in
magic,
love,
music,
spirit,
locust smoothing the fifth world,
you and i exchanging our bodies
these days i walk
the wire without a net
shave
my legs with a rusty blade
sleep with my
doors unlocked
walk alone in the ‘hood
inhale second hand smoke
and ignore fat content warnings
all safe things to
do
i should have
heeded
Yii’
yá’!!
Danger!!
Peligro!! Verboten!!
red light,
proceed with
caution,
objects closer than
they appear,
no stopping more
than 15 minutes,
turn back, turn
back
i
ignore all warnings
so
i stay up late condemned to write and write about you
III
*You’re the right kind of
sinner, to release my inner fantasies . . .
You’re a Heartbreaker,
Dream maker, Love taker
Don’t you mess around with me!
repeat . . . .
repeat . . . .
that’s what she
said!!!!
i’ll say anything
to get past this glorious lunatic space
i’m yellow woman to
your norse gods
the “new world”
meets the “old”
let’s do it again
let’s see how it
comes out this time
IV
tonight,
you made the cello
sing magnificently
you were “charming”
and “luxurious”
my beautiful,
do you mind if i
call you that?
sweet mountains why
are you so distant?
why make me wait?
why exile me to
this gulag?
*Heartbreaker lyrics by Pat Benatar