years of practice for a soft
landing in the slaughter
we looked far off to
a flag sewn into flesh
dear enemy come down the
hill I have taken a title out
of the love for you jumping
down the clear shaft of your eye
you would not know how long I
paused when writing this unless
I said so in the poem
half an hour staring
at the pencil having
written of my enemy with
love and fight to maintain
the ascension
voices from a
room no one exits
we pry genocide out
of the museum but
meant to remove
the museum
from genocide
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Landing in the slaughter! Thanks for sharing.