EXILE
Vanessa Ackerman
The building where my children were born
has no scent
and one of the walls
is always crumbling
A long time ago my friend told me
how he feigned madness to avoid
conscription:
I’d eat the whole cake
even if the others were starving
even if they begged me to share it
I wish my children could live
under their own dirty sun
the mornings here are haughty
You’d better behave, none of this nonsense
Share the last slice