as a child i listened to The Cranberries
singing anthems i could not grasp
for Salvation & for Zombies,
as Odes to my Family & to Saving Grace;
i am 21 & my heart aches as it connects
the dots a five year old in her father’s car
could not.
i cry for the Warchild,
for Ridiculous Thoughts,
& sing my Daffodil Laments
(my anthem for Zombies is much the same).
as a child my mother found me
watching the news with the grimness of
a newly minted tween.
i had tears in my eyes & what felt like
a noose in my fists
& an anger so new to my 4 foot 5 frame.
“how do i fix it?” “you don’t.” “why?”
“you talk to others about fixing it. you trust
others to help you do what you can’t do
alone.”
mamma bade me speak with the softness
of water & watch the ripples flow from me.
with their tanks
and their bombs
and their bombs
and their guns,
watch them die in a treacherous mind’s eye.
& spill forth water from open arms.
Neiha Lasharie 