Bangladesh: Two Poem by Rahman Henry

All the dead people— standing downfaced, walking,
Sitting, working, sleeping, taking part in
Reproductive labor; strange livinghood. There
Flying the flocks of dead birds over their heads— and
Below, on ground, near the feet, just like Lizard-tails,
Trembling: their own fallen tongues—

There are interested trees too! they come out
On the streets to seek living ones;

Frame all these scenario, then copy the frame, and
Hang them on the walls!
That would form an actual map, and there would appear:
A country—