Dead Stars

Let us forget
their faltering war
of shatterings –
of splinterings
of run-from-shops
blown high-to-dust
by others’ drops
of barrel bombs
Let us suckle –
forever blind
Who cares about
such foreign stuff
when we fight
white men seeking
re-election?
Slipped pschents
and insolence –
they are our parade
through Facebook
and shelters under
Twitter storms
I fear death through
water as spelt out
by wicked cards
placed by Madame
Dead stars travel
but will not arrive

Conquest Hospital

Robert Richard Rollins –
I was born nineteen thirty-four
struggled with the name –
El-dwabe

He worried out loud
that he’d forget
the surgeon’s
Egyptian-sounding name

As he was wheeled –
backwards for ease
he again apologised
so profusely to the nurse

for his failure to recall
I forget names –
the consultant …
El-dwabe

The Captured

Her story will be lost
by this time tomorrow –
Jakelin AmeĆ­
Rosmery Caal Maquin –
even one so sweet –
many names for one
so small

And no memorial –
except a wall –
will ever be raised
by any state
to the first life lost
in Trump’s own war

A child – just seven –
in his custody – gone –
whilst his ugly patrols
pour water and scorn –
their cruel acts posted –
‘phone-boasted captures