A Poem by Michael H. Brownstein
Putin tries to poke holes into the body’s work of a nation
but the body’s work of the nation cannot be poked through—
gut-shot punctuation, terrorist renderings, vocabulary of madness
and Russia bleeds fire, cruelty, vocabulary of an insane man’s mind.
He walks into the noise more than once,
and now he must exit from the room:
You do not have to follow a leadership lodged in evil.
Following orders is not a defense.
How do you fight a courageous people, Putin?
You do not. Geocide is murder. Murder is murder.