Extraordinary Rendition, by Judith Trustman

[after Stevie Smith]


the flame of his mind flickers, dull
recognition still burning
……the faces
……the noises
……eating life out
of the bottom of the bag
where the shit lies
he tries to sit still they told him this
is where the flies don’t come
some day he knows he’ll fly
through a place with no name
like a man with no name

shame hangs like a cloud, dull
as the minds claiming sovereign powers
over our sovereign powers
……wreathing the airports
……the runways
a flicker of light is an orange suit
which might arrest as an image
hold imagination hostage
we only know there was a waving through
extraordinary as it may seem

this, my rendition of these events
is an attempt to say it was not waving
but drowning
like a country with no name

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