Zuhanden 14 by Laine Nixon
A Halo of Carnations by Monica Rico
I. The Dove, Frida
A carnation can't be killed
dirt and work to become a flower
tongues stretch like petals
twist like braids
cover their feet
sewn to the seams of corsets
I will not eat them
I’ll make halos for Frida Kahlo
with my cheap flowers that pour scent
from faucets
I almost drink them
a carnation can't be killed
trim a foot
like stems in water that smells like rot
are we strange
with tongues outstretched like petals
that flap and fold with my breath
dirt and work become a flower.
II. The Elephant, Diego
What I want to do is punch
him in the mouth, that floppy fish mouth
kick him with her boot
if she asks
if she laughs
wrapped in smoke and rebozo
a hummingbird’s bill
dipped in paint, canvas of tequila
remembering when we dressed like boys
not doves
carnations weigh less
when I see him I will punch him
maybe she’ll laugh
at the smell of my hands on his throat
will I set
him free or re-lace her boots
slowly weaving through eyelets
I can truss a chicken or her husband.
III. My Photograph
Since pressing the carnations
into the rivers of my hair my
heavy head braided
cloth ribbon
no monkey
to help me undo the knots
or eat these flowers
so sweet I will drink them from a cup
what will sparkle in my reflection
no antlers
or connected hearts
carnations sing with cut tongues
held in the hands of dancing monkeys
that pierce fruit etched with hummingbirds
such buzz
they weave like ribbon
click click a bulb shatters
holds still and preserves the rivers of hair.
A carnation can't be killed
dirt and work to become a flower
tongues stretch like petals
twist like braids
cover their feet
sewn to the seams of corsets
I will not eat them
I’ll make halos for Frida Kahlo
with my cheap flowers that pour scent
from faucets
I almost drink them
a carnation can't be killed
trim a foot
like stems in water that smells like rot
are we strange
with tongues outstretched like petals
that flap and fold with my breath
dirt and work become a flower.
II. The Elephant, Diego
What I want to do is punch
him in the mouth, that floppy fish mouth
kick him with her boot
if she asks
if she laughs
wrapped in smoke and rebozo
a hummingbird’s bill
dipped in paint, canvas of tequila
remembering when we dressed like boys
not doves
carnations weigh less
when I see him I will punch him
maybe she’ll laugh
at the smell of my hands on his throat
will I set
him free or re-lace her boots
slowly weaving through eyelets
I can truss a chicken or her husband.
III. My Photograph
Since pressing the carnations
into the rivers of my hair my
heavy head braided
cloth ribbon
no monkey
to help me undo the knots
or eat these flowers
so sweet I will drink them from a cup
what will sparkle in my reflection
no antlers
or connected hearts
carnations sing with cut tongues
held in the hands of dancing monkeys
that pierce fruit etched with hummingbirds
such buzz
they weave like ribbon
click click a bulb shatters
holds still and preserves the rivers of hair.
Monica Rico is a second generation Mexican American feminist. Follow her at www.slowdownandeat.com.
Laine Nixon is a painter based in Sarasota. In 2015, Nixon’s work was published in Studio Visit Magazine, and acquired by RBC Wealth Management. She won the 2016 John Ringling Towers Fund fellowship which includes a residency at the Hermitage Artist Retreat. She is working on an upcoming solo exhibition.
