Daniel Aristi
Daniel was born in Spain. He studied French Literature as an undergrad (French Lycée in San Sebastian). He now lives and writes in Switzerland with his wife and two children. Daniel's work is forthcoming or has been recently featured in Best of Small Fictions 2016 (Queen's Ferry Press), LA Review, PULP Literature and Berkeley Poetry Review. Daniel is a Pushcart nominee (2015).
Daughter Island
Like a mountain that’s emerged too quickly
From the seabed and wants to sustain life
Too soon, not to speak of the territorial disputes even
Before you dry off
Or something along those lines because fathers are more the tree house type
And if you can make a tree house you can make a coffin –
Someone we know disassembled a tree house and made himself a casket for two –
And it is beautiful
Fathers hurry back from war to get their daughters married
…
There is also a mom in this poem –
Can you spot her?
No
No –
I wan’t, which is the double negation
My sister invented crying in high school and is ‘can’t’
And ‘won’t’ rolled into one,
Motherfucker.
No means No means No
Means No –
What part of ‘No’ sounds like
‘All hands on deck’ to you?
You’re like The Human Torch
But you burn down your clothes when flaming on
And then the ashes and then the excuses.
No –
If you look at ‘No’ tilting your head to the right
It is a woman kneeling and clasping hands
Begging for her life.