Warning: This poem tells of the cruelty of acts of war. (Also of other really important and gorgeously thought about/written things, but the description is strong enough that I almost wished I had had a warning, and I have never wished that before. If you want more like this though, see Carolyn Forché's "The Colonel
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I love the poet's attempt to grapple with the horror of it and how s/he tries to do that - and the sense of that grappling in the poem.
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The world where soldiers nail the hands of a dead baby to it's own skull is the same world in which she lives & makes love...how can that be? She struggles with the contrast & possibly the guilt over the pleasures living; without being the direct victim of the terrible cruelty of whatever war this is referencing, it still colors her perception & experience.
That's what I took away from it anyway.
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