drown in, the bed
scattered with bombed-out bridges or
The iron was hauled back up on land
you know the river ribbons
the countryside or you know
The river slices through the city, one bank
heaved up like a tidal wave, one bank
spread out like a flood plain or
You knew the river’s name
before or you
didn’t know the river at all.
Dz
No common contemporary word
Sputtering drone, petticoats,
embroidered vests,
red leather boots.
No one cooks over an open fire,
scratches words into wood,
drinks by candlelight.
You want a sharp consonant,
an axe of a word to split myths,
to cleave false memories.
You want a word to spit
this was no world, no time
anyone lived in.
The truth was a city,
baroque façades, paved streets,
three-piece suits and hatpins.
But war is a dry husk
to jam in people’s mouths,
so you’ll let the letter rust and dull.
(The rhythm of that drone,
that twirl of skirts,
the burn of liquor in your throat.)
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