The giant
strides out of
the canyon where they live
and tells me she
wants a tattoo
of her sweetheart's name
on her shoulder.
She stretches out on the grass
while I assemble
my equipment:
ladder
needles
ink pot
pump
rags
and straw hat for my head.
I have needled many giants before,
their vast skin
a living canvas
for kitsch and high art,
and now I charge by the gallon.
I put up the ladder,
caution the giant to
please be still,
and climb the top rung,
my hoses slung over my shoulder.
As I set to work
I ask if the giant felt the
earthquake last night
that rattled my walls
and shook my bed
but the giant says nothing:
they are not given to
small talk
and silently
I push needles into her skin.
Inject ink.
Wipe away excess.
It is hard work
and I need an
assistant
but tattooing in a fading
business in our village.
No young person wants
to apprentice to me
so I am perched precariously
on this ladder
alone
hoping the giant does not
twitch or shake
her arm.
I make the letter M.
It takes a long while
and when I finish and
begin on A
the giant
starts leaking tears.
They fall to the grass
where I hear them
before seeing them.
I pause and lick
my lips and look at the
giant who avoids my
eyes. I am an
insect
biting her arm.
What is it? I ask.
Is the needle too painful?
She closes her eyes and
shakes her head
and I finish the second
letter,
begin on the R
and finally she speaks,
her breath rushing into
the air like a hot
wind.
He died last night
she says.
Jumped off
the canyon edge
and lies crumpled
at the bottom
right now.
My hand stops for an instant
and then continues.
The sun is hot today
and I am weary
but I finish
the R
and move onto the
K
and after what
seems like a long time I
finish
the name of the giant
who disturbed my
sleep last night.
The new bearer of his
name remains on the
ground outside my
house for the rest of the
day mourning her
loss while I try twice
to hold her hand.
About the Author: Mario Milosevic’s poems have appeared in many print and online journals, and in the anthology Poets Against the War. He lives in Washington State, where he works as a small town librarian. He has published two collections of poems,Animal Life and Fantasy Life.
Copyright © 2001 by Mario Milosevic. The poem first appeared in Dreams and Nightmares #59, (May 2001) and not be reproduced in any form without the author's express written permission.