WHEN ALMONDS APPEAR

by Judy Trupin

Before we speak of war

of enemies

of those deserving to die

please imagine your grandmother

in her lilac flowered housecoat

nylon, I think

holding out a chipped blue plate

with slightly burned almond cookies.

you don’t like almond cookies

but you take one

chew it out of love

your grandmother smiles

and you return the smile.

as you lean in to hug her

her image dissolves into the other

the one you have learned to hate

the ones whose offspring perhaps are killing your neighbors

as your relatives are perhaps killing hers.

her bones are sturdier than your grandmother's

the skin on her arms a few shades different from yours

her dress a soft moss green

but she still holds the chipped blue plate of almond cookies

an offering

you invite her in

you'd like to ask her to call in her offspring

and you will invite your parents, uncles and aunts

to sit together 

smooth out all that matters

but that is not to be.

your grandmother returns

scatters almonds on the countertop

one for every child killed this week

dough appears

you cannot tell from where.

the grandmothers in tandem

pound smooth and roll

partition it for the almonds

one for every child 

you watch 

you count the endless stream of cookies

as tray after tray  is set in the oven.

Outside

the war goes on.

Judy Trupin is a writer, yoga instructor and teacher of adult immigrants. She has recently left New York City behind and is exploring life in Pittsburgh.

WHO WILL BE LEFT

by Carol Alena Aronoff

when hands steepled in prayer 

open 

bloodstained palms 

in a last gesture 

to smoke-filled sky?

When ashes 

cover newly dug graves 

unfindable 

by those who wish 

a final goodbye 

before they flee?

Who will gather 

broken dolls 

to hold a funeral 

for childhood?

Cover the ears 

of shell-shocked 

dogs 

as their owners 

carry them?

Collect tears 

from empty bullet-

scarred wells? 

Grow sunflowers 

from torn limbs

and copper jackets?

Who will be left 

to push grandmothers 

in wheelbarrows 

nowhere safe?

Who?

Carol Alena Aronoff, Ph.D. is a psychologist, teacher and poet. Her work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies and won several prizes. She was twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Carol has published 4 chapbooks (Cornsilk, Tapestry of Secrets, Going Nowhere in the Time of Corona, A Time to Listen) and 6 full-length poetry collections: The Nature of Music, Cornsilk, Her Soup Made the Moon Weep, Blessings From an Unseen World, Dreaming Earth’s Body (with artist Betsie Miller-Kusz) as well as The Gift of Not Finding: Poems for Meditation. Currently, she resides in rural Hawaii.

DIFFICULT TO SWALLOW

by Buff Whitman-Bradley





Lakota grandmothers in South Dakota
Report that the Department of Social Services
Illegally places Lakota children in foster care
Away from their communities
And extended families
And that those children are continually dosed
With an array of psychoactive drugs
Thus providing pharmaceutical corporations
With a lucrative market
As well as a ready supply of guinea pigs.
When two Lakota children’s noses
Would not stop bleeding
From the medications they he were being fed
Instead of discontinuing the drugs
Doctors sutured their nostrils shut

I know there are those who believe
That humanity is making moral progress
But I see progress in the opposite direction:
As the forces of accumulation and profit grind on
They have become ever more monstrously creative
And efficient
And effective
At mangling lives
Decimating communities
Torturing bodies
And pulverizing spirits.

The good Dr. King told us
That the moral arc of the universe
Bends toward justice
But if I were a little Lakota boy
Stolen from my people
Used as a lab rat
Gagging on the blood pooled in my throat
From a sewn-up nose
I might find that
Difficult to swallow.


Buff Whitman-Bradley is the author of four books of poetry, b. eagle, poet; The Honey Philosophies; Realpolitik; and When Compasses Grow Old; and the chapbook, Everything Wakes Up! His poetry has appeared in many print and online journals. He is also co-editor, with Cynthia Whitman-Bradley and Sarah Lazare, of the book About Face: Military Resisters Turn Against War.  He has co-produced/directed two documentary films, the award-winning Outside In (with Cynthia Whitman-Bradley) and Por Que Venimos (with the MIRC Film Collective).  He lives in northern California.