Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Transpiration

In Juarez, a mother's arms
are too small to hold
her son and the world
that promised to save him
from a little cardboard house.
A metal river of guns
rolls south through the night
to water the terrible flowers
of mourning;
Blue-eyed terror,
creeping brown hunger,
and golden opportunity
that is said to grow
somewhere upstream.

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