Wednesday, September 17, 2008

The Kind of Blood (poem)

THE KIND OF BLOOD

what kind of blood are you

by the looks of you i'd say Korean
by the acts of you i'd say American

what kind of blood are you

the kind that hates, that dies,
that boils over

the kind that bleeds
and stains.
everything.
it.
touches.

this tube belongs to Joan of Arc
this one--to Hitler
this one, Malcolm X and Ghandi
is in here
somewhere

and here, to the old woman
scraping by on social security and her dead
husband's coin collection--no one knows that she is still.
alive.

problem is, i
keep getting them mixed up
so that i am not certain, cannot tell
whose blood is whose

i know that some kind of DNA testing will fix all that
but wait, tell me again, what exactly are we looking for. again.

the kind of blood. remember. the kind of blood.
the good blood.
the bad.
blood.

what do we do with the blood that
loves.

freeze it.
and put it.

in the archives.

_____

they will seek the cells-- that prove invincible
within oppression,
tyranny is culminating purpose.

through the seals and walls,
the archives echo.

reaching
penetrating

the men and women
trapped and suffocating

as they seek
to know

without

knowing.


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