#mompoems

- sandygorange

My heart is an ivory tusk Two weeks before I left for college My mother, an avid smoker and carnivore, Awoke in the middle of the night Complaining of an elephant sitting On her chest Her arms, numb  Understanding the meaning of stillness I asked her if we should go to the hospital She pleaded no The next day, she went to the hospital To undergo last minute open heart surgery My heart is a sancocho Of high cholesterol and blood pressure In the late 80’s According to legend My grandfather went into cardiac arrest Had to undergo a standard procedure Of open heart surgery Assured my mother That it will be nothing  That he will be right out Little did he know He would be leaving the hospital In a coffin My heart is the open, golden gate Three years ago My great Tio kissed my great Tia And two grandkids  Goodnight Sat in his little hammock Set up in his little living room And went to sleep forever When I came to visit With my mother and sister Tia Coca told us  Through the intervals of her sobbing That his heart failed him overnight I saw his granddaughter Sitting comfortably  In the legendary hammock My heart is a warzone waiting for the attack Both of my uncles My mother’s brothers Had the same hearts On which elephants sat My older uncle,  in the gulf war Serving his country When his heart sent him warnings  About open heart surgery My younger uncle,  in the Pan-American Special Olympics Serving his country When his heart sent him warnings About his genetic disposition My heart is a family tradition I gave up meat for lent this year Thinking about the red meat The pernil, the churasco Family heirlooms  How I was sacrificing tradition They taught me to uphold To praise the God They told me to praise When Easter Sunday came I ate the thickest, reddest burger Assuring my destiny For a heart attack My birthright My heart is an elephant graveyard I hang around cigarette smokers Never asking for the first drag I know the infomercials  Taught us that the victims are the lungs But my family history taught me The heart is always the first to die My heart cannot not tell the difference Between death and love After the surgery My mother left the hospital In a wheelchair Standard hospital procedure She has been on medication for three years since Used as ancient magic To ward off the elephants She still smokes cigarettes But at least, she gave up eating red meat