V  P  R

Contemporary Poetry and Poetics




The glass ink bottle blossoms black, eerily.   
Jewish kids in milk-city mid-century
we learnt our Brahms bent over keys

the language of the enemy
the ground in Europe still smoking,
but this was music.

Our mirror images
in Poland, Germany were
photographs burned, match-lit, disembodied:

first shoes,
then kneecaps
then features eaten up one-by-one by flame. This was evil, the supernatural.
Smoke children took shape
sculpted by flame & wind.


© by Lynn Strongin



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