Paperclip

IMG_20161008_195828

By stealth,

the train in my living room

is melting and

my brother is being killed.

 

It was so humid the day

we visited the fighter wing.

I was on life support

wheezing,

God Bless America,

remembering our grandfather

serving in Alamogordo 

in the 50’s.

 

The constellation of Gemini

could be seen from the levee.

 

Now,

they exterminate

our people,

veritas,

our origins,

as tornado sirens and

extra-low frequencies still blare

from the factory.

 

The bones of

the liberators

are now visible.

 

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11 thoughts on “Paperclip

  1. Heather, it is lovely to see you here at Poets United. This is a very powerful poem. I can envision your uncle’s life in the lines about his work in the 1950’s. It feels like America is on life support these days, and those lines really struck me. Your closing lines are perfect.

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  2. I understood but I didn’t know where I was and when. Perhaps that is your intent but, I have no history to rely on. Excellent story.
    ZQ

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  3. So doom-laden. I wish I thought it was fictional. (But even if it’s fiction, I know it’s not fictional. All too true!)

    Like

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