The happy body
In the tiniest cells of my body, I am jumping up and down!
In the bright atoms I am crouching
like a brilliant parakeet with wings tightly folded
but ready and bristling with happiness!
The wounded body
Like a priest called to an accident, I kneel over bodies.
I pray for the blood of little girls shot dead in El Salvador
to come back, come back…
but you know it won’t.
Adolescent soldiers aim in the dark at the shrieks of wounded babies!
Old men are chased around trees by helicopters
made in New Jersey.
The drowned body
When the body stops struggling
it rises and floats.
It goes where the river goes.
Not shouting, not weeping, not praying, not singing.
Little boys point to it, on its way into the Gulf.