Bhopal 03/12/84

to wake like that
eyes boiled, baby dead
and have your own scream
swallowed by the night

and how those savage seconds
wouldn’t end -
hunting blind the shredded days
the torn machinery of the world
lifting you rag-doll
to pour your soul out
rip the sunlight off of you
forever

to blow out joy and hope -
a future of black dust
of empty pregnancies
and polluted breasts

to wake like that
eyes of blood, your baby broken
a thousand tornadoes
against your candle flame

to wake like that
and one day be handed
nine hundred US dollars
because your baby got dead
and to find yourself crying
with gratitude and relief

to wake like that...