print previewback JENNIFER GIVHAN
Warn the Young Ones
First war She polishes the spine of her own
flesh Tethered nerve strangling cord She
burial moundsShe rituals She
cornstalks in rustling fields Nothing tribe
nothing sexRock for riverbedNotched
with flintSecond warShe needs lessSequoia
burnsCities In her body wrappings
of bodiesShe debates running She debates peeling
skinShe stops debating begins praying without
kneesNot for rain Prays rain Holy nothing
unlaces nothing remembered nothing
forgiven—Come othersThird war
She is a void in the particle machineShe is dust
Fourth war she loses the need for waterShe loses
all tasteRain brings each earthwormed corpse Nothing
uglyTurn not Her face from the deadShe
resurgenceShe fable of bee boxes
& honeyShe ark of some lost territory
of animalsShe zebrasShe aardvarks
She dredges the flooded streets of herthe gutters
Fifth warShe grows stronger All that can be
taken she takesAll that can be eaten
she swallowsAll that can be broken she
pulls into her belly & releasesNothing is whole
Sixth warShe loses her appetite Her bones brittle
The cabbage in the broth bitters She
pulls from ribcagesHearts Uses them
as weaponsSeventh warThe cord she began with
Nothing like a nooseShe would rest Longs for nothing
but rest Each threaded backbone slips its knot Nothing
transformsShe wants to tell you this is the end She wants 