Women on War

1.

finally the spaces are filled in
as if there were a map of the world with several territories left blank
as if a group of children came along and filled them in with
          crayons, pens, markers, filled them in with pictures
                     and with song--
familiar tools--we’ve all used them--
but these are voices somehow new, urgently terribly sad

testimony fills the silence
dark faces startled faces filling up the page with whispers
           warnings, the places and the weapons
           vary
but the terror is the same the unimagined pain the same

a child’s eye burning from the inside out
a young man’s hand
chopped off   thousands here    millions there
massive open graves

2.

one must stand for many
she’s called comfort woman   kidnapped first
across the border
placed into a dank dark room
twelve by ten   a basin to clean   a bed to sleep when possible
a long dim hallway leads to
other doors and other rooms and other comfort women

in the hallway thatched and full of stink the soldiers lining up
it is late afternoon it is morning it’s the middle
of the night they wait their turn leaning hunched into the wall
getting ready   staying warm and hard
they take her one at a time
the first time   rupture and blood
the second time ten minutes later third fourth
fifteen in one first night             her lips so swollen
other entry ways must do       soon     those too
swollen and bleeding       she has
a basin for cleaning
a bamboo bed
and space on the floor for a small lamp

3.

numbness in a sea of words   massive
genocide   testimonial   comfort
in whom do we find comfort if not in each other
one among continued looming violences must stand for many
as a flower fills the page with long oval leaves
flowing
flowing
outward from a solid center  :  self  :  deeper self  :  connected

I know about pornography and war I claw
my way through fallout image text and lexicon

I change the pronoun I to We
and close the door
and close the book   behind me