I know what it is
to be powerless
I know what it is
to be made to lie low
while the unknown enemy
invades you
what it is
not to have words
for what is happening
for grass and tree
and inanimate thing
to be
your only witness
on the clearest day
of a childhood
almost fifty years ago;
how I hate
male
fucking violence.
this day
I will wear
nor white nor red
nor count myself solitary
instead
I remember the many
who know what it is
to be made to lie low
while the enemy
known or unknown
invades
in dead of night
or in the field
that spoil of war
that
earth’s oldest currency
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