memo Poem by Joanne Burns

if you can stand at the right angle on the front steps of santiago central library on a hot and sunny day when you are protesting against state torture; if you can stand at the edge of the group just as the riot police start to aim the water cannon at the protest, you might be able to catch a glimpse of an extremely small dazzle of a rainbow where the streams of water intersect with the sun's rays. if you can, try to notice this dazzle before you fully comprehend the force of the water. but do not open your mouth to marvel at the momentary beauty or to moisten your dry throat, or to contemplate the immensity of the state's thirst.