Article: Darfur.(Poetry)(Poem)

 
Darfur 
 
   The earth is eating all the little birds. 
   It feasts, grows fat. Their eyes are stones, black jewels 
 
   we rattle in our pockets. Mouths are blurred 
   with sheen of flies, and all the pretty fools 
 
   are silent here, no careless songs, no tra-la-la. 
   The guns alone have voices now 
 
   that parse the shattered bones, an algebra 
   of rotting flesh where jackals slink ...

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