Caper's Poets

Translation — Caroline Depalma


the dawn sky sets into pearl and smoke,

year’s now passed through itself.

America, a still warship on the horizon at mourning,

university t-shirts underneath uniforms

of the executed and on the battlefield we can find

our anatomy lessons.  


ma’a ssa’lāma, lā afham

we don’t want you here  


hiding in the phosphorous rain is the man

I have no longer sought out to marry.

His confessions now write home to me

in gunpowder and spit, the uncertain hand

of a lost spirit.


Filed under: Caroline Depalma, Issue 3,

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