

Issue 3 • Fall 2002 • Poetry

Over Me Travis Montez he wrote

number one gay nigger

across his son's skull

because he thought

that was my name he wrote

number one gay nigger

across his son's skull

because he thought

that was my name and he wrote

my name

across his son's skull

because

i loved him number one gay nigger

and i loved the son

when the father

couldn't stand

Black Americans or faggots

couldn't stand Black Americans

with their loud music

their tacky gold chains

their disrespectful baggy pants

and he wasn't about to let his son

be no faggot

over no

number one gay nigger

like me see

he had traded

one star for fifty

just so his son

could be a man

and

a number one gay nigger

would ruin that dream,

would make that move

from one island with palm trees

to another island with skyscrapers

useless and he couldn't stand

Black Americans or faggots

couldn't stand Black Americans

or their music

that crying-wailing-dying black people music

that sounded like sin he couldn't stand their music except for that one song

that:

over time

I've been building my castle of love

just for two

although you

never knew

you were my reason he liked that one song

about love and trying

about losing and finding

because he thought

it was about him

but at the end of the day

he still wrote

number one gay nigger

across his son's skull

just to keep him

from saying my name and the ironic thing

is just like that song,

over heart

i had painfully turned every stone

just to find

that sometimes

fathers love Leviticus

more than they love their own sons like Isaac on the altar

like Jesus on the cross

sons stand forsaken

bleeding for sins

they can't name number one gay nigger

and

he sacrificed his son

just so

he wouldn't love

no

number one gay nigger

no faggot black american

with music in the dark

no

number one gay nigger

like me over dreams

i thought things

would be easy

believing stevie

when he said

true love just needs a chance

but we never had a chance

because one Sunday morning

while the son was sleeping

the father was thinking

about all the nasty things

we must've been doing

the night before one Sunday morning

while the son was sleeping

the father was thinking

about all the places

i must have touched his son

with my dirty nigga-faggot hands

and all his dreams

seemed deferred he had cashed in

one star for fifty

just so his son could be a man,

he traded islands

he traded puerto rico for manhattan

he traded islands and sand castles

for el barrio and manhood

but his son

wouldn't be a man

if i could touch him

like that

in the dark

if i could touch him

with my music

if i could touch him

with my heart so, one Sunday morning

while the son was sleeping

the father took his breath away

he took that life away from me

and blood climbed the walls

that Sunday morning

over love and when the father was done

there was no son

only a body torn to pieces

flesh removed from bone

because he had been looking

for the little thing

that made his son a faggot

like me and when he could not find it

and there was only the skull

when there was nothing left but the skull

he wrote his reason across it,

he addressed it to me,

he wrote

he scratched

he carved

number one gay nigger

across his son's skull

because he thought

that was my name he killed his son

over sex with a man

over sex with a

number one gay nigger he killed his son

over islands traded

over sand castles given away

over what people might say

over machismo bullshit he killed his son

over time

over love

over a number one gay nigger

over me Poet/activist Travis Montez is a third-year student at New York University School of Law where he is preparing for a career in juvenile justice and community organization. He has performed his work in venues all over the world, including the American embassies of Spain and Senegal. He's been featured in productions at Nuyorican Poet's Café, Brooklyn Café, New York University, and The Poetry Project at St. Mark's Church. Recently, Travis Montez lent his talent to the Words to Comfort benefit for the World Trade Center Relief Fund and is a regular feature in Emanuel Xavier's annual Glam Slam. Go To: Issue 3 or Lodestar Quarterly home page