And
Rent from DeepDyve- And
And
Friday, home from work, I flip on the war and watch a group of marines help a family
bury their dead, and it seems that soldiers called the car to stop with bullhorns, but
was the driver deaf? No one knew, so the car was destroyed, and the Shiah women
wail and wave their hands against losing what they love, against the charred remains,
and the marines stare at their feet, and one young man being interviewed can’t
look at the camera, and the Imam proclaims them martyrs, says that they are already
with God, and the sand and dirt pitch from the shovels as holes deepen,
and the desert sun cannot prevent the holes from filling up with shadows,
and the deeper, the darker they become until the bodies are lowered and
the wailing and waving of hands continue and one of the town fathers
lets the translator kiss him on the customary cheek. [End Page 136]
Bill Brown is the author of three chapbooks, three poetry collections, and a writing textbook. His new collection, Late Winter, is forthcoming from Iris Press. His work has recently appeared in North American Review, Southern Poetry Review, Rattle, and Borderlands.
