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Home » Poetry » Issue 1 » There is War in Ukraine, Groetman!

There is War in Ukraine, Groetman!

We talk about war like it is reality television
As if limbless children are artifacts hung on walls,
Cut-out totem poles to adorn our pandemic-ridden living rooms,
Whose sofas are now ticking time bombs,
As we sit next to those with our surnames
Like visitors to the wrong grave.

Slaughterhouses stretch their limbs disinterestedly
across this maniacal yawn of a planet.

How many poems were born today without titles,
without vitals, brought to life only by us standing there and
refusing to die?