December 25, 2010

A Poem That I Wrote on Christmas That Has Nothing to Do With Christmas (as far as I can tell)


My mom was born in 1947
on the leading edge of years
when women launched babies
from powder kegs and claimed
the bombs men dropped
a couple years before

It was a boom

There was nothing about this time
that meant so much to them, no
such constant demography,
obsessive introspection,
color graphs in unread

Just a boom

Babies wailing to drown out
the agony of soldiers,
their families,
their countries,
their homes

And boom

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