Snakes for Hair

Fayeza Hasanat

I

I’d take snakes for hair

Any night and any day.

I’d knot them and braid them.

I’d toss them in the air

They’d dance and they’d hiss

They’d dangle, they’d kiss

You and you and you and them.

 

II

You should’ve ensnaked me, O Athene,

Before Poseidon entered me.

I wish I had snakes for limbs then

Snakes for breasts and for le vagin.

I could’ve gnashed his godliness

Out of his storm and wily fire

Venomous fangs, not pangs of fear

I wish I had—when he entered me—

Snake-locks, snake-limbs, snaked body.

 

III

I’d wear a thousand snakes on my head

Any night and any day.

Slithering sliding gliding bliss,

They’d bite and spew you, I wouldn’t care

They’d sizzle, fizzle, twist and squeeze

Life’s breath and death’s demise.

They’d piss on the blade of Perseus

And wrap and wrap around his sword

They’d chide and numb him with a stare

Colder than his stone-cold heart.

 

IV

And in winter, I would fall asleep

With one eye open, and another, dead

My full lips parted, showing my teeth

Not for your kiss, man, and not to kiss,

But to hiss and hiss and hiss and hiss.

And my dreadlocks, snake-locked dread

They’re not dead, man, I’m not dead.

I am waiting, spreading the snare

Of my greasy, slimy, snaky hair,

My sweaty limbs and bones—for you

To come near me, and then unsheathe

The sword of your life or love or death,

The sword that you hide inside your head,

Your hands and eyes and filthy pants…

 

V

Because I’d have my snake-long hair,

I wouldn’t flinch, Poseidon, dear

I wouldn’t flinch and I wouldn’t care

About you and you and you or them.

I’d undo my snakes and I would hiss

My limbs and breasts and all four lips,

My hundred thousand strands of hair

I’d untwist and wait, guarding my cave

From the gods, and their swordsmen too

And from Athene, the goddess who

As an aide of gods and enabler of men,

Was worse than a gorgon, lesser than a woman.

 

VI

Remember Hephaestus, the mighty god, who

Almost had you, and you almost knew

The insolent pain and the utter disgrace —

Not of a place—but of your own space—

Your desecrated body—your goddessness?

You failed me when you cursed me with your snakes.

Holder of wisdom, how could you forget

That gods don’t live when people are dead?

Unbeknownst to love, unserved by your gods

You’d have no strength if you didn’t have us—

The head of Medusa and the heart of Pallas.

If my locks were snakes before your curse

I’d surely have devoured a god or two

But before all else, I’d have bitten you.

 

VII

I’ll wear my snakes like malice

I will wear them like my rage.

I will watch through their eyes.

O, my daughters and my sisters,

I’ll save you all, from the gaze

Of those lustful, wanton fiends.

My vicious, deadly tongue

Will hiss and bite and sting.

My hundred thousand snakes

Like strings of vicious force

Will forever flow;

I will never fail you

For I am no man’s goddess,

And I will never cease.

 

** Part of the poem was published in Setu, a bilinugual monthly journal.  (https://www.setumag.com/2021/03/women-poetry-fayeza-hasnat-usa.html)