… mourn a woman’s
bitter lot: to give birth to men
who kill and are killed.
                              Grace Monte de Ramos

                                              That morning alone
he had sunk ten warships, downed four planes,
marched countless armies across unseen
territories, borders mapped only in his mind.
Gunpowder and ash stained his arms and shirt,
across one chubby cheek, a brave streak of red. (more…)