El-Iskandariya
by Jéanpaul Ferro
My memories of you are mummified
like an Egyptian lion,
Washed with palm wine and
surrounded by strips of linen,
All my natural organs tenderly
cleansed and packed in natron,
My heart left inside
for all the afterlife,
Ten thousand days swimming
off El-Iskandariya,
Forty days until I can be
whole again in the Nile,
All of me as I live
inside the four sons—
Qebehsenuef, Duamutef,
Hapy, Imsety,
My brain awaiting you
in a canopic jar.
by Jéanpaul Ferro
Days and nights the waves
come in off shore,
from the head of the beach
a deep blue January sky,
the air, cold, like the cobblestone
of long walkways,
dreams as they return to me
all my forgotten steps.
“Lovers today are all fake lovers,”
you say to me,
this is in Cuba with Hemingway
before Castro,
we work hard just to get by,
you and I, everyday,
oranges for breakfast, warm cakes
for lunch (if we’re lucky).
But we all make decisions,
judgements so close to home,
human weakness left unseen
until some other day—
the way your brown eyes never
hide how much you love me,
the way they leave everyone
else at a table quiet.
____________________________
Jéanpaul Ferro is the author of All the Good Promises, a book of
short fiction (Plowman Publishing, 1994), and Super Sonic, a book of
poetry (Chapultepec Press, forthcoming 2006). His work has appeared
in Portland Monthly, Hawaii Review, Newport Review, The Plaza,
Outsider's Ink, The Pedestal Magazine, Mid-South Review, and many
others, and he was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize by The Rose
& Thorn Literary Journal.
◄ Previous Page Apple Valley Review, Spring 2006 Next page ►
My memories of you are mummified
like an Egyptian lion,
Washed with palm wine and
surrounded by strips of linen,
All my natural organs tenderly
cleansed and packed in natron,
My heart left inside
for all the afterlife,
Ten thousand days swimming
off El-Iskandariya,
Forty days until I can be
whole again in the Nile,
All of me as I live
inside the four sons—
Qebehsenuef, Duamutef,
Hapy, Imsety,
My brain awaiting you
in a canopic jar.
by Jéanpaul Ferro
Days and nights the waves
come in off shore,
from the head of the beach
a deep blue January sky,
the air, cold, like the cobblestone
of long walkways,
dreams as they return to me
all my forgotten steps.
“Lovers today are all fake lovers,”
you say to me,
this is in Cuba with Hemingway
before Castro,
we work hard just to get by,
you and I, everyday,
oranges for breakfast, warm cakes
for lunch (if we’re lucky).
But we all make decisions,
judgements so close to home,
human weakness left unseen
until some other day—
the way your brown eyes never
hide how much you love me,
the way they leave everyone
else at a table quiet.
____________________________
Jéanpaul Ferro is the author of All the Good Promises, a book of
short fiction (Plowman Publishing, 1994), and Super Sonic, a book of
poetry (Chapultepec Press, forthcoming 2006). His work has appeared
in Portland Monthly, Hawaii Review, Newport Review, The Plaza,
Outsider's Ink, The Pedestal Magazine, Mid-South Review, and many
others, and he was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize by The Rose
& Thorn Literary Journal.
◄ Previous Page Apple Valley Review, Spring 2006 Next page ►
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Apple Valley Review:
A Journal of Contemporary
Literature
ISSN 1931-3888
Volume 1, Number 1
(Spring 2006)
Copyright © 2006
by Leah Browning, Editor.
All future rights to material
published in the Apple
Valley Review are retained
by the individual authors
and artists.
www.applevalleyreview.com
A Journal of Contemporary
Literature
ISSN 1931-3888
Volume 1, Number 1
(Spring 2006)
Copyright © 2006
by Leah Browning, Editor.
All future rights to material
published in the Apple
Valley Review are retained
by the individual authors
and artists.
www.applevalleyreview.com
 |  |  |  |  |
Cuba, 1943