Kima Jones

fresh

because the blood resumes
fresh like
flowers i sucked from
grandparents said
nectar lived there
afternoons
we tested our faith
in stories of birds
and bees

but
bees lied.

the blood resumes

month
and then again
month
there will be
more
blood
but no babies

i never learned these things.

i learned the hum of bees
and grandparents
threatening whippings
my legs
my arms
back
hand across the face

i learned it fast.

sweet fucking.
familiar in panties
hot my throat
but the blood resumes
fresh
this morning
waking me
empty stomach
insistent lover

everywhere
down my legs
hands
i must’ve touched
in dreams

dead babies
singing my name
knowing me
someone calling me mama

grandmothers
preaching
lookit the numbers
read the dreams

i hear
screaming

for me

bees
humming

doctor
say

there will be no babies.

because the blood resumes
month
and month
again
i never learned these things.

just men on me quick for fucking
just grandmothers all around me dying

***
Kima’s recommedation:
I first had the pleasure of meeting Javier Zamora at Voices at VONA this past summer when Javier’s final reading was interrupted by a faulty fire alarm. Ever in good cheer, Javier laughed off the disturbance and started his recitation from the beginning. A humble poet, Javier didn’t discuss his chapbook, Nine Immigrant Years or Nueve Anos Immigrantes, until we came back from Berkeley and reached out through social media. Nine Immigrant Years is thirty-nine pages of intense imagery, language and grounding in historical and cultural landscapes. In the poem “The Amputated Years,” Zamora writes with redolent, rhapsodic language.
 
Mamá Pati called me her ear’s fruit fly.  

I didn’t let the barrio sleep for an entire year,

Barrio Guadalupe’s lost year. Backyard mangos begged God:

callá ha’ste chillón diosmío. Shut this crybaby.

I am not only impressed with Javier’s debut chapbook but the publisher behind it. Organic Weapon Arts Chapbook Series offers “explosive little books” that “act as harbinger for a new artist’s first full release or sate audience appetites between a more established writer’s projects.” I love the quality of work coming out of the project and the ethical writer/publisher relations they’re modeling. 
 


Kima Jones is a 2013 PEN USA Emerging Voices Fellow in poetry. She lives in Los Angeles and is writing her first poetry collection, The Anatomy of Forgiveness. She can be found online at www.kimajones.com.