• Woman, After Ka Fort

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    You are become woman. Come back finish your milk!
    Take initiative. Play if done with obedience.

    War is inside you. War is rivers across.
    Your own mind. What’s sweeter than college?

    Despite years of tacit anniversary,
    the motorcycle shape of the tomb

    of the union man—on whose chest was trained
    sights, bullet points of the milk company—

    still chafes your soul into pieces of melt
    purple against the blunt of a butter knife.

    Did we or did we not
    tell you to go to your room?

    This talk of mountains as if it were a womb.
    Never use that tone on us are we clear?

    Your bags packed since the day you were born.
    When you raise that voice spare your mother

    Throw it rather to my face
    Your eyes open where I can see them.

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