Skip to main content

How to make a penny dress


for Rochelle

Start with story – thirty-eight + two 
Hung before the rising sun
Be precise.
Learn every breath of it, tell it one hundred times.
Hold the trauma of four, five generations, 
Let it build gravity in your belly.

Daily  
Pray to your ancestors, 
Thank them for the legacy that is you.

Grow indifferent to racism and unkindness.
Dance. Sing. Dance. Sing. Dance. Sing. Dance.
Pray with your feet to find
Inspiration for the dress: 
       how it comes together
       how the body holds it 
The healing that lives among the threads.

Here is a story that needs a horse to ride.
The dress is the horse; the dancer, the rider.

Be patient for the dream that brings the dress to you.
Remember what your grandfather said.

Ride at dawn, ride at twilight. 
Ride at dawn, ride at twilight. 

Now gather two black Pendleton blankets –
Red and yellow stripes along the edge.
Gather two hundred and eighty pennies, a hank of red glass beads.
Cut into equal pieces a coil of waxed cord.
Gather family, share deer stew at dusk on the Snow Moon.

Pray hard over that cup of coffee and cigarette.
Exhale
Spread out the Pendleton blankets, 
Spread them with pennies, heads up.
Sit with hammer and nail punch. 
A hole through each Lincoln head.

Thread the wax cord pieces – one penny, three red beads. 
Again and again and again and again.
Glass and copper tears.
A full bowl in a west window.

Ride at dawn, ride at twilight. 
Ride at dawn, ride at twilight. 

Take a moment, take a day 
Pray beside a frozen river.

Share the story 
With seven more,
The thirty-eight + two
Hung before the rising sun.
You'll want
Sharp shears to cut the black pieces: 
front body, back body, right sleeve, left.

Pray hard over that cup of coffee and cigarette.
Exhale

Take your time 
The pieces come together 
on an old machine, in a room off the kitchen.

You shovel snow, feed the fire, feed the horses.
Coffee and cigarette.
Smooth the seams.
Gather a lap full, red and copper tears, 
Stitch them on:
       the yoke across the back – ten tear drops, four rows.
       the right shoulder, the left – ten tear drops, four rows.
       the right bodice, the left – ten tear drops, four rows.
       ring the waist – ten tear drops, four rows.
       ring the hemline – ten tear drops, four rows.
Thirty-eight + two swing in seven directions.

Pray hard over that cup of coffee and cigarette
Exhale

Here is a new dress, new world
Hung before the rising sun.
Gift for your eldest daughter – Otehika.
Maybe that is you.

The story's in the dress in the dance,

A history, you bring to life.
Medicine for the people.

Light another cigarette, 
Exhale.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Death Might Be Just A Holy Rend

  Death Might Be Just A Holy Rend And life a faithful pillow - a pillow to go flat, a spirit to drift off,  glaciers to melt and raise the sea. The blueprint is clear - Expect a tiny storm of mercy–  full of crows and bottle flies to debride the corpse,  to tithe the land.      And respect the putrid demise - things that fall apart make space for miracles.   Yet there persists the memory of breath rinsed in lavender and salt air. Then the dreams for blood and semen to revive, to metabolize  every tired, sad gospel into a hatch of octopus. Death confesses everything as she conjures her necrosis, as she feigns redemption, fools us with false devotion. She believes our defiance will set her free.   We must let grief to be the thread and needle to darn the rend, renew the cloth. then we can grasp the nascent green of winter wheat in spring.

Covid Journal Entry 14

April 4, 2020 Today’s image – Exploring social cohorts. So, on campus now there is a small village of us living together, the remnants of those in residence this year.   We are an international population: seven from the US, six from Vietnam, five from China,   four from Morocco, one from the DR and two dogs/three cats.   We share four large buildings where we live, take our meals, study and exercise, on a five-acre campus. The rest of the two hundred and sixty or seventy odd community members are sheltering in their homes; some of the teachers and administrators dropping by during the week to work in their offices.   We have had little or no contact with them so far.   Our chef and his crew of two come in by rotation to prepare and serve the daily meals, a maintenance duo tend to the essential tasks and repairs, the city services haul away trash and recycling, the postal service, UPS and FedEx still deliver mail and packages.   It’s Iowa and the gove...

Covid19 Journal Entry 13

April 3, 2020 Today’s idea – I want to follow a suggestion of looking at my situation through different lenses. A macro lens magnifies my considerations of things, hopefully so that I might notice what I’m overlooking. Peering through these eyes, I see life slow down and seem more intentional with the extended solitude of quarantine.   The introverted place in me is mostly fine with this state of things, until the longings for companionship or just hanging out with friends stirs up unruly emotions. These vex me because they take on the old voice of negative self-talk.   In this head space I can turn normal feelings of missing my family, particularly sons and granddaughters into an old loop of “they don’t mis me so much anyway because I’m not around like most good grandmothers are.”   I’ve even given myself a moniker, VAG, visiting aunt grandmother.   Somehow it makes me feel less consequential but still adorable.   We live out our choices and our strokes o...