Craig Czury (Estados Unidos)
Por: Craig Czury
Diary w/o names
while they won't show us the dead/ or the weeping and mangled faces between the rubble// while they interview the heroic pilots/ talking about having met their objective/ with the ease of just having flown back from the video arcade// i want all you 5th graders to crouch down under your desks/ for the next 15 minutes (15 days 15 centuries of saturation bombing) // i want you to think about all the 5th grade-aged Iraqi poets/ at this moment huddle under our bombs in bomb shelters/ struggling to find the exact words/ we have struggled all week in our poems/ to express what is happening to us now them in their lives/ under our bombs// (at a time when the world is speaking guns and missiles/ we have the balls to speak poetry? Only children) //i would like to dedicate today's poetry class/ to the 39 year old Iraqi poet who made love last night/ to a young Iraqi music student/ between the zippers and torn buttons of their clothes/ in a crowded bomb shelter (muffled implosion/ with de last spoken tremor a sigh)// friends/there is one of you in every corner of this earth