Manifesto for the New World
       

For those who live in the twisted nightgown of madness
For the hungry that sate with what's left of the leaves
For those who have never seen the ocean—
            I am the ear of god's blue trumpet.

For women who fall down in the dark and lift with dawn
For children biting their lips in war's opened cage

For the soldier's temples crying at dusk—
            I am the antenna jutting out of Mercy's hardware.

For the devils that sing in the prisoners' cars
            For the eyes of those dying in the sun—

I am your water, your bandaged healer, whose hair
            falls around you, whose hair
falls around you on the floor.

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Copyright © 2022 Laura Minor All rights reserved
from Flowers as Mind Control
BkMk Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission