Two PoemsWhen the War Comes you are black out/drunk at a party/he fucks you on a mattress/without sheets/you run/from hands wish for arms when the war comes/you lose/your wine in a bottle of names/when the war comes you are only 16 have not learned/the word combat/the war is here inside/this room/and you think/love is locking the door/you empty yourself of mouth crawl/from him/a smudge of body/when the war comes/you are unarmed in soupy dark There is blood/on the mattress in this room /passed through the hands of many generals they never speak of bodies/they only blame the war The Only Thing I Own Body, why can’t I remember you right. I know you’re no life boat. No sail-starved wind. Your ode keeps renaming. We become separate seas. Come closer. Don’t worry. The doctors opened your mother’s heart in time. Your father built his boat inside a bottle. Body I have wailed amongst this squall of salt. Have stung, sunk and sung. Body it’s okay to be afraid of each other. To say I don’t know you before falling asleep. Sorry I forget you. Let’s hold each other honest as wind. |
|
||||
| Copyright © 1999 – 2024 Juked |
|
