Syria (another draft)

June 26, 2011

He talks to a lense
straight to camera
shadows bruised
with peony haze.

‘If you had a daughter they took her.
If you had a house they burnt it down.’

and faded skyline,
washed with sunset,
magenta cloud bank,
shot with grey.

Screen after screen
is glittering through my living room
a rose scarf wrapped
around her head.

His eyes are pink
as he talks about his daughter
and black oil
is barely a trickle
and no one comes

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