Papa's Mother Tongue
He’s gone beyond
that Big Chain Link Fence now
but when he was alive
my papa’s mother tongue
was hot sand. So he learned
to sing liquid.
One time wandering
those gold dry rocks he looked
under an overhang where
a big piece of brown paper
was blowing around. Looked closer,
it was a mountain lion.
That was a true story;
most others he told
were made up.
His mother died when he was 12.
I guess that’s why I got her name.
He worked hard, hard! to get himself
out of that West Texas dirt town.
It was the music that carried him away
but a piece of his stubborn heart
stayed down there
close to the border. He sang
and wrote anthems and never
wore blue jeans again and never
stopped missing that gritty land
that split him in two.
He’s gone beyond
that Big Chain Link Fence now
but when he was alive
my papa’s mother tongue
was hot sand. So he learned
to sing liquid.
One time wandering
those gold dry rocks he looked
under an overhang where
a big piece of brown paper
was blowing around. Looked closer,
it was a mountain lion.
That was a true story;
most others he told
were made up.
His mother died when he was 12.
I guess that’s why I got her name.
He worked hard, hard! to get himself
out of that West Texas dirt town.
It was the music that carried him away
but a piece of his stubborn heart
stayed down there
close to the border. He sang
and wrote anthems and never
wore blue jeans again and never
stopped missing that gritty land
that split him in two.
Kyla Houbolt's debut micro chapbook, Dawn's Fool, is available from IceFloe Press: https://icefloepress.net/kyla-houbolts-dawns-fool-a-microchap/. Most of her published work can be accessed on her Linktree: https://linktr.ee/luaz_poet and she is on Twitter @luaz_poet.