Carapace
I am growing mine
though I have regretted yours.
She says, ‘Sure I saw him: he wanted
to run, the Guardia Civil
shot him before he reached the patio wall.
Do I understand “subversive”? Yes,
the word means
people who know their rights,
if they work but don’t get enough to eat
they protest. He was
a lay preacher, my father,
he preached the Gospel,
he was subversive.’
She is 12.
My shell is growing
nicely, not very hard, just
a thin protection but it’s
better than just skin. Have you
completed yours? It seems
there will be chinks in it though,
the cartilaginous
plates don’t quite meet, do yours?
A 9 year old boy whose father has ‘disappeared’
three weeks now,
asked how he feels, says
with the shrug of a man of sixty,
‘sad.’ He nods. ‘Yes; sad . . . ’
That burning, blistering glare
off the world’s desert
still pushes in; oh, filter it, grow faster,
hide me in shadow,
my carapace!