Friday, November 5, 2021



Poem for Stillness

He stirs his tea with a gun barrel

He solves the puzzle with a gun barrel

He scratches his thoughts with a gun barrel

And sometimes

he sits facing himself

and pulls bullet-memories

out of his brain

He's fought in many wars

but is no match for his own despair

These white pills

have left him so colorless

his shadow must stand up

to fetch him water

We ought to accept

that no soldier

has never returned

from war



Garous Abdolmalekian

Lean Against This Late Hour

Penguin, 2020