Robert Hughes is a retired secondary school English teacher who now writes fiction and nonfiction about overcoming alienation by reconnecting with the environment.
YaYa
Born adult, left home age a month,
Changed name to YaYa.
Mohawk buzzcut. Storms her lay
Atop Taber Mound
(Dance rain rattle and lightning drum.)
Cut in half and cauterized
She’s grown a Velcro strip holds
The scar closed on her insides.
She was never young!
Depends how you read in art she
Throws off lives ajar. Random walk.
But cross-tracks downtown scat her paws …
What signs else … She bleeds egg-yolk yellow.
She pees sky-blue. She exudes
Primary colours. She lives
In the present loose.
Her answer to all blah-blah; her moniker,
Whats-it-matta YaYa
She’s illegal in any
Arrives in a coup d’état-
Hitches ride. Slaps pickup’s ass
‘Thanks. Freeze, fight, fly!’ Her boots crunch
Extinct shells and broken bones.
(She “farts philosophy – or
Feel-somethin’-sticky,” she adds).
“I like how you’re I’m not what.”
Spy cache in an amulet tied
She: “Wear the beast out inside.”
A shadow resolves
“Hey! Where you goin?” – “Don’t know.” –
“So am I.” – “Thanks.” – “Nice to” –
“Freeze, fight, fly!”
Her next ride. Zing! … Skin ting jings.
*Taber Hill is a First Nations mound in Toronto, dating from the 13thcentury.
**ting jingis listening energy
Robert Hughes
