or spleen. kidneys. ribs. be still my soul.
how does a city broker its disease
within the confines of a borough, where control
limps tepid-like carrying a parasol
of hurts, hurting, hurted, hurtful croons
stranded in measured arenas without pulpits or spittoons.
***
sister tell me about this cough i cough
all of my skin cradled in this cough
my body ancient as this white cough, i cough
all day and night i’m haunted by this cough,
a snake rattles in my throat this cough, i cough
a scream embalms my chest with cough
sister an echo surrounds my lungs with this cough, i cough.
Sonia Sanchez’s Does Your House Have Lions? (1997) is a book-length dialogue between sister, brother, father, mother, and ancestor voices. The excerpts above are both in the voice of the brother, who is dying of AIDS.
Sanchez takes her ear for contemporary spoken word and applies it to a poetic form at least as old as Chaucer, the Rhyme Royal: Does Your House Have Lions? is written entirely in seven line stanzas with an A-B-A-B-B-C-C rhyme scheme.
Does Your House Have Lions? was also featured for poem-a-day way back on April 24, 2007.
— Ellen
I just sent this to a student who has been writing a poem with a repeated refrain after every line. Thank you for introducing me to Sanchez, years ago!