“…that harsh and strangled sound…”
From Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer’s After
I wish that wars we wage are eternally internal
that the bombs we drop are chakra bound that the
bullets we shoot are philosophy loaded that
our harsh struggles are the wrangling of values
negotiating love’s forces…that the strangled sounds
of pain are proof that when we love ourselves when
we harness the power to love ourselves there is
no need for any other kind of power that deaths
are body blisses self-sufficient: the dis-eases of
being a piece of the same massive soul banging
inside a body trying to understand its home that is
the same home that all the other soul pieces are
banging inside of…I wish that we can abolish hate
and burn money and share
sky is for all the stars
raging together
VANESSA SHIELDS 