#7

Meanwhile, another kind of being
was constructing itself, blindly

- a mutant, some have said:
the blood-compelled exemplar

of a “botched civilization”
as one of them called it

children picking up guns
for that is what it means to be a man

We have lived with violence for seven years
It was not worth one single life-

but the patriot’s fist is at her throat,
her voice is in mortal danger

and that kind of being has lain in our beds
declaring itself our desire

requiring women’s blood for life
a woman’s breast to lay its nightmare on

Adrienne Rich died. I feel kind of strange about it. I read her essays. And then I found out she was a poet. And then I read her poetry. I have no clear view on either. But here’s a small tribute poetry post.