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Description

Poor broken child of Eve myself,

to me, the flightless fly,
the listing, blistered, scalded.
I am the rod to their lighting.
Mine is the ear hole their stories pierce.
At my altar the blouse is torn open
and the buttons sailed across
the incensed air space of the nave,
that I may witness the mastectomy scars
crisscrossed like barbed wire, like bandoliers.
To me, the mother carries the ash contents
of the long-ago incinerated girl.
She begs me for comfort since my own son
was worst tortured. Justice,
they wail for - Mercy?

Each prostrate body I hold my arms out for
is a cross my son is nailed to.

~ Soldiers Home Memorial Cemetery ~ St. James, Missouri

~ so Blue without you for Christmas ~ www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_0La-…

~ Martin Tallstrom Silent Night ~ www.youtube.com/watch?v=vlJsQ_…

Description

Poor broken child of Eve myself,

to me, the flightless fly,
the listing, blistered, scalded.
I am the rod to their lighting.
Mine is the ear hole their stories pierce.
At my altar the blouse is torn open
and the buttons sailed across
the incensed air space of the nave,
that I may witness the mastectomy scars
crisscrossed like barbed wire, like bandoliers.
To me, the mother carries the ash contents
of the long-ago incinerated girl.
She begs me for comfort since my own son
was worst tortured. Justice,
they wail for - Mercy?

Each prostrate body I hold my arms out for
is a cross my son is nailed to.

~ Soldiers Home Memorial Cemetery ~ St. James, Missouri

~ so Blue without you for Christmas ~ www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_0La-…

~ Martin Tallstrom Silent Night ~ www.youtube.com/watch?v=vlJsQ_…