by Nan Meneely
2016
We hold a protest silently with signs
that welcome all who worship other gods.
A pickup ploughs the shoulder
where we stand, kicks gravel as it stops.
We back up quiet, listening. A man in camo,
raging, crying, leans across his passenger
to scream his epithets: ignorant fuckers,
we don't know shit of the animals we invite.
Who of us has watched a friend
disintegrate, arms and legs no more
than shrapnel in a blazing Afghan sky?
His mind is full of massacre.
He loved. He hates.
I want to climb in next to him,
hold him in my Nana arms until he stills.
I've heard his wounds before.
My husband keened in nightmare
when he found again among the vines
of Vietnam his comrade's boots
with nothing of his comrade but his feet.
I know my luck that I don’t know.
Even as the soldier curses me
in his convulsive bitterness,
I want to love him back
from where he lives.
2026
Ignorant fuckers, haven't you learned
you kill the ones who survive ?
Nan Meneely’s first book Letter from Italy, 1944 (Antrim House) was noted by the Hartford Courant as one of thirteen important books by Connecticut writers in 2013. It provided the libretto for an oratorio of the same name, composed by Sarah Meneely-Kyder and performed twice by Connecticut choruses and symphony orchestras. Her second book Simple Absence (Antrim House) was nominated for The National Book Award and placed as a grand prize finalist in The Next Generation Indie Awards and the 2021 Eric Hoffer Award. She has been published and rejected by The New Verse News.