The Lingering Wound • poems by Simon Anton Niño Diego Baena

Revision

Like a child planting seeds
out in no man’s land

you need to sketch bullet holes
not this window
not this vase
there are flowers in most rooms
here in Madrid

and what could be more beautiful than the urn placed near the altar?

outside
the leaves tremble
like a priest
praying, doubting
his god

you must break
the bread, you must
spill the wine
on that empty table

you need to smoke calmly
and recite Garcia Lorca’s poems in the dark