Mercy, Mercy, Mercy

Abstract

Before the barstool,toes dangled with sweetinhibition. Don't mind me.Blow the dust offthe seat. Lookhow the roof leaksmoonlight, how flowerssprout from the mouthwhen you speak.It'll teach you to chokedown beauty & bediscreet. Don't tell momma,says Judas, sucking ice,he laughs when the catwalks his horn back,to forgive is to retreat.He's got a god up his sleeve.The blood of a thousandjuke joints flowinto one glass &he swallows it neat.Don't believe his rumors.This is how the missionarylost his religion—a cannonball fellout the rock-bottom sky.When it landed,the night knelt& from its knees,it said,mercy, mercy, mercy.Photograph by Dawoud BeyBernardo WadeFirst, let's imaginehe complimented herearrings & the freshly donenails she slid intoher double fingeredring because he'd be crazynot to, they're fly.Now, let's imagineshe positionedhis hat just sosaying, I like it when I can seeyour eyes, now please,look at the camera likeyou love me, & he triedin the way boys do:with the brim of his capturned sideways& his I'm with my girlbut don't fuck with me glare,he almost looks hardexcept the light bringsout the peach fuzzabove his lips, & the wayhe grips her, he looksa little clumsy. &with the way she'sposed—standing tall,unruffled bythe wandering of his righthand, her eyes cuttinginto the camera—we don't haveto imagine thatwhat we seefeels sweet—two teensleaning in fora kind of tending,four arms crossedat the wrists,an ecology of twobreaths helduntil the momentends, then exhales—& sure, maybeafter the shotwas snapped,their next moveinvolved somethinglike a shaved ice,coconut maybe,but let's imaginethat while theywere eating,this imagecrept outof the lens& into their chests.