ESMERALDA

Esmeralda is a funny sounding name

like
the metallic groan
of faulty plumbing

or
a broken screen door
swiveling on its hinges

or
the squawk of
rain-drenched sneakers

When  I was a child of
five or so,
with ringlets of honey-toned hair
swiveling past my ears

there was a neighbor on our block
who, whenever he would see me,
would call out in that derisive sing-song
peculiar to all bullies

Hey, Esmeralda!
Hi, Esmeralda!

And I at age five or so
wanted to shrivel away
in my own skin
and throw up from my first
bilious taste of humiliation

And thanks to the thoughtlessly cruel
taunting by an adult,
this five year old learned

how to crawl inward for protection,
and how to distrust the human gaze,
                                                                                                       
and how to view oneself
as an oddity

He’s probably dead after all these years,
but in those odd moments
that hang like distended organs,

I can hear his voice
as wickedly sharp as a scythe
slicing my ego with the thrust
of every syllable
calling out:
Hey, Esmeralda!

My question has always been:
Why Esmeralda?
Why not Bob or Jane?
Mary or Charlie?
I guess he chose it
for only one reason:

Esmeralda is a funny sounding name