A poem by Yakari Gabriel Torres
I published some of her poems before, I like the way her head spins. Yakari’s FB page reports she is a full-time Astrologer and a full-time badass, but that’s only for show. She is also a sometimes-participant in Poetry Nights, by Basha Foundation, enlightening monthly events, with a cult following.
Last week’s Poetry Night unfolded at Maggy’s on the Main Street. We were also treated to the music of classic guitarist Ryan Maduro and Flamenco dance with castanetas by Angela Croes, in the Frida Kahlo room. Thank you, Carlos Bislip Jazz ensemble, including a 15 year old drummer, for your musical contributions. Thank you Maria, for doing this.
From Bread & Butter, published 2023, her second collection, after Cold Coffee, 2017.
I say “I am tired”
and people tell me to rest
but I’m not that type of tired
I cannot sleep this feeling away
or unplug long enough for it to leave me
I am the type of tired you get
when you are fatherless,
and spend most of your childhood watching women break their
backs
to make it to the end of the month
the type of tired you get
when those patterns are sown into you
and now you’ve become one of those women as well
I am tired
Of being too broke to afford my mother’s love
And too worn out, to clean her house in exchange for her mercy
Tired of carrying my guts and my gloves everywhere
being always ready to gamble or fight
for something nobody promised I would win to begin with
I say “I am tired”
and people ask me if I cannot find something else to do
but there is nothing I want to be doing
my box of talents has been hollowed out
by the humdrum of life
I say “I am tired”
and it doesn’t mean I am looking for suggestions
or want to have a profound conversation on how to navigate
generational wounds
When I say “I am tired”
I mean that my world needs to be made new
need a spark to light up my fire
need somebody to see me
for the fragile human I am
