named by chance
by circumstance
a bit of a joke
no roots or history
to your naming
it’s no wonder
you seldom understand
the significance of histories
untold, retold, revised, erased, defiled, ill-placed
monogamous solely to your own sullen face
so still, Little Oscar
so closed from the world
hands folded, as if ready for death
perched on the reel
that seldom turns
in the direction of justice
what do you know
of humankind
beyond what you’ve been told
by others like you
so still
so perfect
so robbed of life
all affect rehearsed
cajoled from the hole
where soul might have been
had your name
mattered more.
Poor little Oscar,
so perfect
so still
balanced on a sword
you fight for nothing more
than staying in one place.
-Magdalena Gómez
January 22, 2016