a language of coins

and sorrow –

the distilled
rage of impermeable
fact

whether mineral
or flesh, official
or vain

– impermeable
as if it matters

staggering under weight
without end, the redeemed

pick through rubble. They are choices
of politics and dismay. Here
brutality is fact –

cited in bone fragments
and blood

I know them
through ink stains
and rumor, disengaged
from my heart

a people
with whom
I’ll never stand
speak, or argue

with whom I’ll never eat
drink or share burdens

they
are the quickly
dying, and the mourners –
broken women
children and men