One reads about the Ukraine: this one first shot
in the elbow, then, later, so mangled that all that lets him be found
is the broken arm
sticking out of the ground. 

You could write about the arm not willing
to be silenced, but the fact is
he was a whole person. 


Hi, a poem of sorts based on terrible news coming out of the parts of Ukraine, such as Bucha, that the Russians occupied and left. It’s a draft poem, that I’m leaving as is, not because it’s a good poem, but because the subject matter is such that it feels ridiculous to try to be artful. The drawing is from my “archive,” a copy of an Inuit piece, I believe, in the Met.

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One Comment on “Armed”

  1. Helen Dehner Says:

    Sobering …. no additional commentary necessary.

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