December 22-28, 2014: Dina Khan and Dave Migman

The Motherland

the whirls of wind
lick bare bones of the road
like a tongue kisses dry lips.

broken and dreamy,
the body of earth spreads over horizon.

the black soil patches, the stone pits,
bruises and wounds
run aimlessly into
the future.

a curious land I hardly know
expands over horizon,
this is the Motherland.

the motionless body that brought me to life.
the mother, an unknown stranger,
the land I never walked.
torn apart by poverty…
God is here alone.

I crawl like an animal
and think –
of me, of love,
of insane luck that spared my life.

Stilted

i heard your hollow laugh
i remember now
in the clarity of flashback
that my mouth no longer worked
as the rain hissed in the drains
i staggered back home
looking for a battle I never found
(didn’t I curse your dead mothers?)
cackling down the phone
bottle getting lighter
as I passed necropolis and toasted
the living tombstones
of flickering lights
to return to the cavern
kicking off my boots
she stirred in the bed
growled
and turned
out the lights