I CAN’T HEAR YOU

by Chad Parenteau

the chief 

of sticks

proclaimed.

Too busy

turning on

faucets

 

hoping to

sluice away

immigrants

 

back down

to Mexico. 

Water. 

 

It goes 

right down

the hole.

 

Know that

from pre-k

diarrhea.

 

Excuse me.

Listening

for cracks

 

and all of

the people

falling through.

 

Once screams

finally stop

close hole.

 

Not right now.

Reapplying 

ear stigmata.

 

Need to have

gold card to

reach in here.

 

Have these 

documents 

to soak out

 

in deep south

salted by tears

of crocodiles 

 

that are now

jealous of 

our alligators.

Chad Parenteau hosts Boston's long-running Stone Soup Poetry series. His latest collection is The Collapsed Bookshelf. His poetry has appeared in journals such as Résonancee, Molecule, Ibbetson Street, Pocket Lint, Cape Cod Poetry Review, Tell-Tale Inklings, Off The Coast, The Skinny Poetry Journal, The New Verse News, dadakuku, Nixes Mate Review and anthologies such as French Connections and Reimagine America. He serves as Associate Editor of the online journal Oddball Magazine.

THE MAN OF THE HOLE

by Joanne DeSimone Reynolds

The Man of the Hole was the last of an indigenous group living in the Tanaru indigenous area in the state of Rondônia, Brazil, which borders Bolivia. The majority of his tribe are believed to have been killed as early as the 1970s by ranchers wanting to expand their land. In 1995, six of the remaining members of his tribe were killed in an attack by illegal miners, making him the sole survivor. Brazil's Indigenous Affairs Agency (Funai) only became aware of his survival in 1996, and had been monitoring the area ever since for his own safety. It was during a routine patrol that Funai agent Altair José Algayer found the man's body covered in macaw feathers in a hammock outside one of his straw huts. Indigenous expert Marcelo dos Santos told local media that he thought the man had placed the feathers on himself, knowing that he was about to die. —BBC News, August 30, 2022

O! Sole man –

60ish   50ish

Thatched huts

Holed – 3ish by

10ish foot deep –

4 (or 2?) footed traps

Spiked   Did you

Hide?   Hold up?

Did you know?   O!

Macawed Carnival

Romancer –  

Web-womber –

Eons lost   You –

One with the Whole

Joanne DeSimone Reynolds has published poems in The New Verse News, Salamander, The Ekphrastic Review, Sanctuary Magazine, Ibbetson Street, Wilderness House Literary Review, Lyrical Somerville, and other journals. She has also written reviews for Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene. During the first spring of the pandemic she wrote a collection of ekphrastic poems for 2020 Art Ramble in Concord, Massachusetts.