Snapshot #7

One week ago he wanted to kill someone because
they were locked in their hotel for two weeks
and bombs kept strumming the windows. He was
so sick he could barely walk for three days
from the food.

He told me about the dead baby he pulled out
of the dumpster in Kosovo. Twice he did this.
Two dead babies because of a culture thing and
he's reaching into the refuse and the stinking
pieces of paper and the cold skin of the newborn
like wax on his hands. I think the babies were
so happy that someone cared they stay with him,
in the shadow beyond his left eye. They crawl
into his arms when he is sleeping. They don't mind
he drinks to fall asleep to forget them.