POEM WITHOUT WATER
by Mark Kyungsoo Bias
for Sean Bonney
or without time. There is no edge
of the world anymore. We have not
come very far. The cities are still
here. I see your life on the soles of
your feet, in the soul of the dirt and
I understand. We have failed in so
many ways. Where is the miracle?
The starving are now the starved.
But we cannot be anywhere
without a whimper of where. The
masses blockaded by a shrinking
tree line and a line. Bodies piled in
the field. Poetry has failed in so
many ways. America is bordered
like a secret. America is a bedrock
of silence. The poem is not art it is
violence. There is no washing away
the blood, only drawing with it.