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War Mother




you cried

your hands raised above your head

grasping the brown olive branch

a token from mother nature/mother anger

mother wind/mother earth/& every

other mother of the ten rings

who saw that shaky video

i turned(back to my coffee)

neither in need

or bothered

by what i had witnessed

you could have left

my rational scolded

there were rumors

of a troop movements

in the stratosphere

still you drew a circle

& stayed

the spell worked

till it didn’t

the ground

ground of your father’s father

ground that fed

ground which swallowed spring

ground of stones


splitting your son

in two across

the chicken shit wire

i’m different

i slap my chest

like a new age spartan

i’m a pioneer

i don’t take prisoners

as i type in a new address

for a big-box store

in the town

i’ve never left

the american spirit(has evolved)

into the great american convenience

& i’m

it’s best soldier

Jordan Merenick is a poet from Pittsburgh,PA. He enjoys life and especially books.

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Published in issue 5


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