Don’t Pretend You Don’t Care

The body is smart y'all. The body is smart and art and scheming. A football player
does magic on TV now. He made Heidi Klum levitate. Her body was long & cloaked
in black like a Labrador. She laid on her side and floated for real y’all. Floated
like smog streaming a horizon, floated like a bride ballooned, like big truck Mardi Gras.
This football player blew my mind. No tricks no tracks. Once he was long snapper
then his aorta was thick as a PBR can and now he is a magician y’all. He says
it’s a great day to be alive and he means it. I can tell. I can tell by the eyes on the front
of his face. They say thank you to a dope God. To a big shot. To the head honcho.
To a million dolla man. The body is smart y'all. The body knows when to run full steam
ahead or pause quietly for a check-in. Gloria Anzaldua says her body is a shadow beast
y’all. She says she is a wild-tongued serpent looking for a home. She says the serpent
causes and cures the wound. The body is forked at the tongue and knows no lasting home.
The body will burrow in a rent-to-own or sparkle on a field. The body is smart y’all.
It will wail for ancient Gods or bleed unnoticed. The long snapper has it all. His wifey
is blessed with natural ombre. Her head hair is a night fall. Her body is {curly brackets}.
Her serpent is hibernating, and she doesn’t know any better y’all. Heidi was convinced.
She talked enthusiastically with her hands. Howie made his face into a shocked egg.
Simon said the world needed him. Needed his magic. Simon said the world needed
his magic, y’all! I looked for the thin lacing of clear supports for Heidi’s flimsy body.
I paused the Roku and went frame by frame. I only saw sequins y’all—the limitlessness
of stage light, the flick of a tail.

Adele Elise Williams is a poet, editor, educator from Baton Rouge, Louisiana currently working on a Ph.D. in Literature and Creative Writing from the University of Houston. Her poetry can be found or forthcoming in Guernica, Barzakh, Cream City Review, Split Lip Magazine, Quarterly West, Beloit Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. Her current goings-on can be found at adeleelisewilliams.com.