Writers Workshop
At last in the clearing in the hot afternoon sun
amid thousands of flies and wasps
The four dead soldiers were found by their comrades,
naked, twisted, mutilated—
One with his hands and feet cut off,
the cut-off feet placed where his hands were,
the cut-off hands placed where the feet were;
Another with brains scooped out and placed in two piles
on the chest like breasts
with a gouged-out eye on top of each;
Another, a young woman with her eyes missing
later found stuffed up her vagina
and the genitals of her companions
crammed in her mouth;
The last, a mere boy, disemboweled, decapitated
with the guts placed where the head was
and the buttocks cut off to the bone
and placed over the face
with the cut-off nose and tongue
stuck up the asshole.
Meanwhile, on another continent,
in an air conditioned
university building
A creative writing class listens
to the poet-professor explain why
political poetry is not
poetry but rants
disguised as poetry
And assigns them to write
for the next class poems
about their grandmothers.
Antler