Text

you cried when you
saw his name
in the paper
black ink on grey
your tore out his
name and ate it
chewing it
loving it with
your tongue

when the boys
went away to
a war you couldn’t
understand
you looked to the
clear skies
and appealed
to god
there was no
answer
there never
would be an
answer

instead you sit
huddled next
to the radio and
listen to the cracked
grey voice of
the newscaster
announcing that
belgium was
taken then
holland then france
with its proud
people under the
breaking heel
of the nazi boot

the u-boats
slipping through
the water like
grey sharks
the arms of the
germans on the
television outstretched
in that hated
salute

the cathedrals
fell underneath
the bombs
hiding
the raids
the raids

evacuated
from home
going with mrs. hill
her home hidden
in the country
where no planes
shriek overhead
her husband is
away to war
sitting before the
dressing table
and looking
into your eyes
in the mirror
and wondering
why you are
and why he isn’t

can’t stand the silence
and make your way
back home
nobody is there
a stiff white note
lies on the table
you sit at the table
and drink cup after
cup of tea
neighbors have
gone away or
they huddle about
the radio
not a light shows
at night
all is dark with
the windows covered

the bombs screaming
down about us
britain is at war
terrible stories
about the jews
filtering in
you hold his
face in your heart
and it hurts
to remember those
words in the paper
he's gone
he's gone
another unit lost
in the war
just another statistic

go down to the
darkroom
and look at
the negatives
smiling girl with
the bone moon
in her eyes
looking at the
prints developing
on a white
wasteland
the smell of
chemicals clench
in your throat
and you cough
until you can’t
see the other
girl in the
photograph anymore

huddle up on
the bed and clench
your arms around
your breasts and
listen to the
the heavy silence
of the house
screams gone to
their own hell
the sound of breaking
glass and the
planes bludgeon
their way
into the house

it's over and you've
split in two
pre-war and post-
war
the jagged ends
of you don't meet
why do they
tell you of the good
of the world
only to show you
the terrible blank
eyes of the boys
coming home
from their long
day away

embrace brother
look into his
empty eyes and
see hell
for hell isn't hot
and steamy
it is cold like a
tundra
and it chips
pieces of your
mind away
until there is
nothing left

it will never
be over
we will never
be whole again