Michael Minassian: Moons And Mothers And Monsters

In the middle of the night
I hear a radio speaking
in a foreign language
I cannot understand,
so I get out of bed
to tune in the channel;
the voices escape loud and clear
telling me to forget the past.

Somewhere in the world, skeletons
shake off their derelict dust
and set off in sailing ships and coffins,
carrying their chromosomes with them,
saying “bury the intellect”
and “bury humanity” while the sky
turns to sand, spills from the open sockets
of moons and mothers and monsters:
drink, America, drink,
here are the matches, the airplanes, the missiles,
here are the masters,
bring me a womb to plant
while we drinken, America, trinken.

This poem has appeared in Diverse Voices Quarterly. Michael Minassian now lives in San Antonio, Texas. His most recent publications include poems published in the Comstock Review and the Iodine Poetry Journal. His work has also been translated into Dutch for inclusion in a poetry anthology entitled LICHT published by Amnesty International.