Clean

In a museum, photos:
people later slaughtered stare at a camera.
Ones who are defiant. Ones who are
terrified. Ones young enough to understand

they keep us living petting
our baby chick hearts
a little more tenderly. The latest useless

sorrow. Our helpless selfishness. Let
the world go sadder. And clean.


From SHE DIDN'T MEAN TO DO IT (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2000)

 

Poems by Daisy Fried

Bulrush

Correggio

Clean