Enemy Infant

The red coals pouring into the infant’s mouth
No
The infant’s mouth in the raider who pours

No  the mother gagged and forced to witness it
Then raped and shot the milk of her murder

No
The coals of revenge and the clans of clarity
The separatists the occupiers the old seeking wise                    silence

The infant’s father staring out from whetted blades
The widower waiting tables for the nation of his exile
No

The infant grown up see how tall the night marching
See the gangs ground into rebels to season distant                   headlines
Azaleas bursting from palace barricades  No

No  only the infant
The infant and its wail was there ever such a peace

(ForthcomingAWAITING YOUR IMPOSSIBILITIES)
Winner of the 2010 Anne Halley Poetry Prize from The Massachusetts Review