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Our words mean everything we’ve learned about them and it is right that we don’t have words for the feeling of there should be no words for destruction, it is the moment for silence in every language in the world. being destroyed, 3 Raindrops stay on the leaves a long time. The birds sip at them without breaking the sparkling nets. The ground around every landmine holds its breath for the moment when fire will explode its seeds into life. Nature made everything, even the B-52 and George Bush. Patterns of screaming children travel far into international airspace melting the ice on every jet’s wings, sending it in to land ahead of schedule. 4 In their different ways a war-torn country a war-torn province a war-torn region a war-torn community a war-torn house a war-torn friendship a war-torn memory a war-torn body a war-torn poem a war-torn understanding a war-torn room a war-torn tree 2
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5 (Margin note: something not mentioned in the reports or seen in the photographs whose captions misdirect your attention – the child’s wounded body is always shaded by a man crouching there with desperate eyes, waving away insects or touching the bandages as if there were something he could do to mend the exploded flesh and at funerals there are so many men crying over the little body even if they have locked their women inside houses and windowless clothing, even if they carry guns and wear beards, even if their turbans contain great hatred, these men would give their lives to save this small child, these men with broken hearts.) 6 Walking between George Bush and a full heart I choose the path of trees and cobbles in a familiar city full of foreigners. To be invisible in a place you know well is the best kind of freedom. There’s so much chatter in the world, only silence now would change anything. George Bush shadows me as I walk, complete power and powerlessness on a street where trees do what the and cobbles grow slowly softer in profile, footstep by footstep. wind wants 3

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Our words mean everything we’ve learned about them and it is right that we don’t have words for the feeling of there should be no words for destruction, it is the moment for silence in every language in the world.

being destroyed,

3

Raindrops stay on the leaves a long time. The birds sip at them without breaking the sparkling nets.

The ground around every landmine holds its breath for the moment when fire will explode its seeds into life.

Nature made everything, even the B-52 and George Bush. Patterns of screaming children travel far into international airspace melting the ice on every jet’s wings, sending it in to land ahead of schedule.

4

In their different ways a war-torn country a war-torn province a war-torn region a war-torn community a war-torn house a war-torn friendship a war-torn memory a war-torn body a war-torn poem a war-torn understanding a war-torn room a war-torn tree

2

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