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The Secret Agent

The Servants’ Quarters

Ma didn’t believe in slapping. It was what common people did.

The Silence Here Owns Everything

When he kisses me, my heart flutters in my chest like swarming bees.

The Speed of Dark

I have studied and become intimate with the speed of darkness.

The Stormtroopers of My Country

this country will stick it to infiltrators imprison traitors love neighbors

The Story of a Scar

“As your brother, I ask you, how did you get that scar on your face?”

The Sympathy of Angels

We see how tired you are as you lean on your rifle or your shovel.

The Third Round

If you let me live, I will buy you beer whenever I see you in town.

The Tradition

Men like me and my brothers filmed what we planted for proof we existed.

The Trojan Women and Other Poems

When the snake attacked the soldier, its fangs left a violent opening.

The Tucson Shootings: Words and Deeds

Debra Hughes

The Vaccination

The three of us share a myth, that I’m fragile as old bones. My parents speak in low voices—about me, I’m pretty sure. I watch the waitress, trying to remember how to flirt. I take off my mask.

The Victims

When I think on it, I can’t believe I’m going to kill two people over weed.

The Winter Soldier

He was ready to move on, to touch his patients, to cut them open.

The Woman Who Was Small, Not Because the World Expanded

This is the woman who had shrunk so small, nobody could find her.

Theater of War

Ajax killed men and then animals thinking they were men.

They Were Blind and Other Poems

Fatwas condoned our arrest for the rouged contours of our lips.

This Is Not a Christmas Story

There was a shout, then a shot fired. I pressed the shutter again and again.

Thomas Nelson Community College

After several months, I worked up the courage to share a war poem.

Thompson’s Boots

I’m recalling his socks, the inked initials, the splashes of blood.

Three Poems

My brother stealing all the lightbulbs, my parents live without light.

Three Poems

Condemned to an easy life balanced on the suffering in another land.

Three Poems

A sociopathic streak on my father’s side I try to put to good use.

Three Thursdays in the Bronx

“Oh, Jesus.” It’s the greatest shame since 1929’s stock market.

Tina Turner and My Father

Ike’s voice left behind on the shore as Tina plunges in again.

To Cicero’s Hand

They cut you off, let fall your hammered silver bracelets to the sand.

Trojan

A boy in a dress vanishes beneath the sound of his own galloping.

Troy

Ajax can answer all this killing only with the killing of himself.

Tuol Sleng

We press closer to look at a picture: a handcuffed boy leaning toward us.

Two Men

Lebanon’s sky was full of stars. The sky here doesn’t have any stars.