Firing Squad

On balconies, sunlight. On poplars, sunlight on our lips.

Today no one is shooting.

A girl cuts her hair with imaginary scissors—

the scissors in sunlight, her hair in sunlight.

Another girl steals a pair of shoes from a sleeping soldier, skewered with light.

As soldier wakes and looks at us looking at them

what do they see?

Tonight they shot fifty women at Lerna St.,

I sit down to write and tell you what I know:

a child learns the world by putting it in her mouth,

a girl becomes a woman and a woman, earth.

Body, they blame you for all things and they

seek in the body what does not live in the body.