Sunday, October 04, 2009

Sunday Poetry: Jean Gerard


Take Showkar Kariz for example.
It's thirty miles northeast of Kandahar
as the crow flies over Mohammed Qasim's head.
He's the only remaining inhabitant now.
He looks up into a cloudless sky.

"There's no Al Quaeda here," says he.
"I had just dug out a child when
the second strike flew over. That time
they got him!"
He squints in the sun,
rubs his eyes.
"These are war crimes," he says.
Then: "Guess who came by last week,
and for what? Americans," he says.
He's tired. His voice shakes. "They
buried a piece of the World Trade Center
here," he says, "and took a piece
of our mosque back to New York."
He points
to a small mound beside a ruined wall,
sifts a handful of dust through his fingers.

Jean Girard

(Published at Poets Against the War. Please go visit this web site.)


Anonymous said...

Diane, do I know you, should I know you? I moved from raising my kids in Temple City to Japan, and about four years ago moved up to live with my son in Cambria, Ca.
For several years, when they were struggling to get a tax raise passed, I worked for TC Schools, superintendent's office. Maybe we should be in touch. My website:

3:52 PM  

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