Rose Mary Boehm

Somewhere in Northern Peru

Five babies to feed. Thank God
for the sugar, your man says, and lifts
his machete. Up. Down.
The swing sure and practiced.

Your eldest sells cane hearts
to passing tourists.
Un Sol for a packet of ten.
Si, señora, thirty cents.
Little one tied to your back,
you bend over the cotton shrubs.

But tonight, you dance, Nayaraq,
bob and wheel on calloused feet.
Your body your voice, revealing
what moves you. Hardened hands
clap, goading you into forgetting.

Your rhythm beats change. Your
endurance gives rise to new voices.
Your children are at the heart of grace.

Serge in Holland - 1967

Six in the morning. We’d survived
another party. On our way to wash off the night.
He stood at the side of the beach road
taking a leak. His army fatigue hold-all told
us enough, and we decided he was in need
of breakfast. He squeezed into the minivan.
His accent was French,
his stench overpowering.

We watched him wolf down Dutch pancake
after Dutch pancake. Broke, no place
to sleep. The usual. After seeing to our various
hangovers, we parked our bods on our spot,
winding each other up, and trying to milk some
new stories from this guy. Armenian parents,
a teacher, lived in Paris.
Where else.
He’d been hiking through northern
territories all summer.

Serge was tanned, his hair fashionably long,
his smile engaging. We figured he’d use the
opportunity to ablute some.
Wouldn’t go near water.

Couldn’t swim?
Didn’t want to risk losing his tan?
His funk?
He grinned: aphrodisiac.

 

Rose Mary Boehm is a German-born British national living and writing in Lima, Peru, and author of two novels as well as eight poetry collections. Her poetry has been published widely in mostly US poetry reviews (online and print). She was several times nominated for a ‘Pushcart’ and ‘Best of Net.’ Her eighth book, Life Stuff, has been published by Kelsay Books (November 2023). A new MS is in the works. https://www.rose-mary-boehm-poet.com/