Lockie Hunter

The Curls of Giaconda Belli

I dream Giaconda Belli braids my mane;

weaves in flowers from the Malinche tree.

My hair a halo of word and orange flame.

Her world a vine-ripened poem, the forest frame,

We sit, baked into stones, far from the sea.

I dream Giaconda Belli braids my mane;

She tosses red curls for me to rename.

The Sphinx moth, Devil’s Viewpoint I see.

My illusion a halo of word and orange flame.

My turn. I begin to weave her name.

My fingers catch on morsels of words and bounty;

I dream Giaconda Belli braids my mane;

Fingers snag on nouns, trip on verbs aflame.

Her curls resist the brush, wedged on debris

Her hair a halo of word and orange flame.

magia, madre, pueblo, quiero reclaim.

Why would you try to separate them from me?

I dream Giaconda Belli braids my mane;

My hair a halo of word and orange flame.

Lockie Hunter

Lockie Hunter is a recipient of a 2013/2014 Regional Arts Project Grant for poetry. She holds an MFA in fiction from Emerson College in Boston and has taught creative writing at Warren Wilson College. Her words have appeared in publications including Hiram Poetry Review, Slipstream, Brevity, Nerve, Gulf Stream Literary Magazine, The Baltimore Review, Main Street Rag, New Plains Review and Arts & Opinion and her satire has appeared in McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, Opium, The Morning News, University of Pennsylvania's Problem Child, and other venues. She serves as curator of the Juniper Bends Reading Series and Stories by the River, and as associate producer and host of the poetry radio program Wordplay on 103.3 FM in Asheville.

Photo credit: Nikki Moon