GASSED

by Royal Rhodes

Today, U.S. officials announced that the final munition in the nation's obsolete stockpile of chemical weapons has been safely destroyed—a disarmament milestone decades in the making. 

—U.S. Department of Defense, July 7, 2023

Gassed (1919) by John Singer Sargent —Wikiart

The staggering line of gassed soldiers, each Tommy blindfolded as if in a deadly children's game, moved slowly over a ground-cover of wounded and dead, and were linked by a sagging rope of hands on shoulders. The society painter, more famous for portraits of the wealthy and renowned, a world of watered-silk frocks and highly polished silver tea sets, covered a vast canvas with these larger-than-life figures that overshadow the startled visitors gazing at the past. In the background a spirited soccer game caught their eye.

War made forests ash

and remade farmland

to fields of headstones

Royal Rhodes lives in Gambier, Ohio, and has published poems in The New Verse News, Ekphrastic Review Challenge, and Snakeskin Poetry.

CRATERS

by Alejandro Escudé

The images
show only
bluish erasures,

the aftermath
of the airstrikes,

just days
after airing
the faces
of babies

squinting,
tears or poison
on their reddened
cheeks.

How does one
fill the holes
that no longer
have meaning?

Can another
Adam and Eve rise
from the smoldering
ruins?

Or another Tree
of Life
grow?

Wouldn’t that
be a sight?
In night vision,

a new man
and woman
squirming up
from the singed
earth

like two worms,
then a blazing
tree

bright as
an explosion.


Alejandro Escudé published his first full-length collection of poems My Earthbound Eye in September 2013. He holds a master’s degree in creative writing from UC Davis and teaches high school English. Originally from Argentina, Alejandro lives in Los Angeles with his wife and two children.

JEAN-PAUL SARTRE INTERVIEWS BASHAR AL-ASSAD

by Judith Terzi

Jean-Paul:      La ligne rouge? Have you crossed the red line?

Bashar:            Qu'est-ce que c'est?

Jean-Paul:      Did your regime use chemical weapons?

Bashar:            Facebook is a loaded pistol. A powder keg.

                          We are Syrians, not tweets. The story does

                          not hold together. Let me tell you the truth:

                          Hell is social media.

Jean-Paul:       If you were a philosopher, what would you do?

Bashar:            I would stop dyeing my hair, for one. It looks

                          horrible on screen. I would strive to become

                          authentic. How do you say: authentique?

                          I would dance naked with French women.

                          Naked as a worm. French women kiss like rebels,

                          n'est-ce pas? Oh, pardon, I mean like...terrorists.

                          I would sing  Non, je ne regrette rien. Wonderful

                          song. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha...

                       

Jean-Paul:       Did your regime use chemical weapons?

Bashar:            When the rich go to war, women and children

                          die in the blink of an explosion in a tunnel. Red

                          line, red blood, red tulip, jungle red (my wife's

                          lipstick), Russian red, Rudolph red. You see,

                          Syria is a secular regime, Jean-Paul. Stockpiles

                          have no meaning if you are condemned to be free.

           

Jean-Paul:      Would you leave Syria if safe passage were offered?

Bashar:            Ah, Jean-Paul, the chips are not yet down. How do you

                          say: Les jeux ne sont pas faits?

Jean-Paul:      Oh, you have it wrong, cher Bashar. Les jeux sont faits.

                          So you read my play? What will happen if France

                          decides to strike? Or the U.S.?

Bashar:            I am no fortune teller, Jean-Paul. You can expect

                          the unexpected anywhere, anytime. Ha, ha, ha, ha...

                          Your peoples are no strangers to the accessories

                          of war. Engagement is an act, not a dot.com. Kind

                          regards from my wife. She wishes you would chill.

                                    

Recent poems by Judith Terzi have appeared or are forthcoming in: Malala: Poems for Malala Yousafzai (FutureCycle Press); Myrrh, Mothwing, Smoke: Erotic Poems (Tupelo Press); The Raintown Review; Times They Were A-Changing: Women Remember the 60s & 70s (She Writes Press); and elsewhere. Her fourth chapbook, Ghazal for a Chambermaid, is forthcoming from Finishing Line.