sunflower 9

by Bobbi Lurie

he paused and groped

put the glass back safely in its place

i tried to release my hand from his

his grip grew tighter hands a replacement for eyes

no necessity to break it so gently

i mean i barely eat

he detected my uneasiness

the loss of self-image

nameless grave is this life

my end would be violent

no time for confession

he spoke as if reading aloud

born to be mistreated by beasts in human shapes

racial hatreds

remembrance of times past made me feel weak

the boundless arrogance of survivors…

movement so pathetically helpless

boundary of light and shadow is an inner façade

unreal insubstantial

earth peopled with mystical shapes

soothsayers and fortune-tellers

we drove past vast fields of wheat

all the way we could hear their screams and groans

conversation full of stupid phrases he had taken from newspapers

prisons filled with murdered men

there were deaths

on the pavement was the body of a woman

two children one weeping

carefully preserving all her prescriptions