• HOME: Wherever I May Roam

    The Walking Wounded

    By Teev Handal In the chill Autumn airTrees stand nudeNothing left to hideLife imitating the flawed artOf American PoliticsBearing the good and the uglyAt the end of one roadAnd the beginning of another Shell shocked votersDancing, staggeringIn rapture and painAll deeply woundedFrom captivity and battleFor the momentIgnoring their own bloodIgnoring the blood of others Selfishness clawing at allBut there is no proper cornerIn which to lick those woundsThey must be viewed, sharedProbed by anyone/everyoneStigmata of citizenshipHoles in the spiritThat are proof of life Sides taken must meltRemoved from behindThe falling wallsThat divide one anotherIn order to uniteLove thy neighborAs you love yourselfGolden rule of our healing