Another Dirty War, by Margo Davis
Another Dirty War
When I look at cellophane across this man’s
bloodied mouth, nose, his grimace shrink-wrapped--
I can’t breathe. How had it come to this?
What a price for speaking out. What woe
surely we will never know. Breathe. A Dirty War,
the people whispered openly. A life sentence
repression choke-holding. But suffocate
another? Stab them? A spider web, yes.
In the late-seventies Argentine opponents
lost their children— innocents scooped up
for adoption by a country’s barren nobility.
Where were you when it ended, in ’83?
My baby, just two then. I feel undone.
Inhale. What could I have done? Thirty-plus
years taken from mothers, widows. Never
again. A dirty era long ago. A time so
foreign. We speak out, speak up, speak loud.
Breathe a sigh. This cannot happen now.
Twice nominated for a Pushcart, Margo’s poems have appeared in The Ekphrastic Review, Ocotillo Review, What Rough Beast, The Fourth River, The Houston Chronicle and Slipstream. Recent anthology publications include Enchantment of the Ordinary and Echoes of the Cordillera.
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