Green
birds pause cackling to flutter low close to the ground
javelins snuffle out of underbrush tusks
lowered towards the new noises
in canopying low-hung branches, a jaguar leaves
a rotting deer carcass bloating thirty feet above the ground
on the other side of the world, the quietly pious are stretched out
on the racks of the Spanish Inquisition,
silently-suffering, losing blood
en route to disease-ridden reservations
the children of the Bikini Island nuclear tests,
the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki
in the streets of Los Angeles and New York.
Holly Day’s poetry has recently appeared in Slipstream, Penumbric, and Maintenant. She is the co-author of the books, Music Theory for Dummies and Music Composition for Dummies and currently works as an instructor at The Richard Hugo Center in Seattle and at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis.
Fixator Press 