Ferocity of Grief<\/b><\/p>\n
there is nothing ripe enough for survival in this wasteland,<\/span><\/p>\n only disaster culled from smoke wafting out of the bodies of<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n my countrymen. i often marvel at the brevity of sadness, how<\/span><\/p>\n dead comes out in a single syllable as if nothing as lamen-<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n tations never swallowed a home when a boy goes out to revel<\/span><\/p>\n and returns as a wooden box. my sister left us one day like\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n a mist and drifted across deserts and waters to Libya.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n the next time our eyes would meet; mine held a tributary of<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n seas, hers shut like a dead language waiting to be voiced.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n post-mortem revealed: rape and murder. home is a\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n fire we are escaping, only to be arriving at the threshold\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n of forlorn. how do i say city without feeling the sound of\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n epitaph on my tongue? when you say home, i am seeking\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n the part where mercy resides like a minaret and won\u2019t have\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n to bleed or break an arm in the rubble. When you say home,<\/span><\/p>\n i am gathering together my heart, broken as fragile cinder blocks.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n what shaped you into life may devour you like history, like home.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Wild References\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n (1939-1945) World War II<\/b><\/p>\n like us, the dawn was barely mature when we went to the war<\/span><\/p>\n