Thanks again to Moko magazine for publishing Go Hide Your Joy, Boy in August 2016. The latest version of the poem is below.
Tail and Coma of Augustine Confessions
Go! Go hide that joy, boy:
Spread your bony fingers across
wide smile; smother and stifle
escaping giggles.
Me, your mother, sister, aunt, the women
next door, too tired
tell you, after laughing is crying; shrapnel-
branded by ancestor’s comet confessions,
—original sin—adulterous invisible fathers
and bitter Monica mothers, you have no right
of passage to light-
hearted happiness.
Go! Go hide that joy, boy:
Dunk your bald head under numbing
river; drown deep
rising passions.
You fool to think a belly-full of fun,
can come before familial duties;
can lift your spirit rapture free
like helium balloon in clouds.
Indentured sentence will be served,
with swift, sharp,
head-turning slaps across
inherited soul.
Go! Go hide that joy, boy:
Grin, bear monkey-on-back shame.
Hang head; don’t risk or rattle
conforming cages.
So what if your seat’s reserved next to all hollowed
man, lined up for rapid shots at bar;
blackbirds on wire; shadows
staring through glass till dark,
sneaking home for
sofa sleep, holding
tears and dreams
alone
?
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