Trigger Warning
War winter
in my new country I won’t
turn on the heat I don’t
have to tell the neighbors why
it’s the war of course
it’s the prices the fraying
nerves the fraying everything
the reason I left the war
in my country where
boys were issued tools
to die too young
my god those boys strong
savvy desirable funny
a dozen different shades
of nobody’s parents having any money
I think of their hands now
their palms the way
we huddled solidarity
they say on this side
we called it something different
all the together-on-the-same-side words
we could think of and at 17
I lost one and then I
lost another one in the street
wars in winter when the heat
in my country was cranked
in every house in every driveway
trucks burning gas for an hour or more
just sitting there just being warm
no one inside everyone in the house
having a beer maybe a smoke
just sitting there empty
burning in the cold
no one having to tell
the neighbors why