Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2018  Vol. 17 No. 1
an online journal of literature and the arts
 print preview

Delta, Echo, Alpha, Romeo

January, Omaha splitting
open like a wound, like a moan
hard with teeth, back when

we spoke on the phone delta, echo,
alpha, romeo all the tiny wicks
of dread curling their small

fires deep into my heart.
In Al Udeid, you said, the wind
in the sand was not quite

a lament, nor did your plane
mean certain death. Tell me,
then, how you loaded

the bombs, how you parted
the air, how the ocean divides
breath between us. In Doha

you followed the sun
to the Gulf. Not once have I
believed we’ll be spared.  

return to top