Poem for a Russian Grandmother in Exile
1.Father Sang his mother’s curse
And he said o mother o mother
The earth is wrecked with pain and prayer
one hundred thousand birds
falling into desert sand
The earth weeping
empty baskets of bread
tides of drowned winter wheat
I know you were stolen
I know you loved another
I know you were bought
and traveled north
in a parade
of wine salesman and knife sharpeners
marching American highways out-of-step
Oh mother you moved
like everyone from town to town
to cities tobacco billboards
corroded steel girders coruscated dust
The clamoring of witness
I know you are dying
My mother
Father mourned
polished cameo photos covered mirrors
Lay down in bowling lanes mournful
Awoke night to wailing dawn’s electric sirens
Mother never wanted him
Father never blessed him
The industrial world never wanted
For anything
Grinding up lenses in gears
of…
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