From Hazarajat With Love
Poem By C. E. Laine
You were preoccupied, busy
chaffing the sky with leaden
tick-click snap bombs that opened up
the ground, lifting dirt for graves.
You changed the air to rotten eggs
and match stick fumes, your slender
razors were aubergine arms embracing
the heavens you chapped.
We are the damp rags wound
around your tired feet. Encumbrances.
Thin stone soup, flat and frail
over blue coals. Yesterday
was a million screams ago.
Today, we count pebbles
to replace missing wet teeth.
Your wagging dogs were hungry
enough to eat us whole.