Bitter Mother
Blue, dead, rush of mothers,conceal your island, little star.
Trains, hands, note on a thread,Poland’s dish of salt.
They said, The orphanlandsof Americapromise you a father—
The ship’s sorrows, broken daughter,the ocean’s dark, dug out.
Silent Father
Rain, stars, sewage in the spill,hush the river.
In your black boat, broken snake,you hid. You sailed
for the meritlands of America,dumped your name in the blackwater—
In the village they pushed the Rabbito the wall—someoneblessed the hunter.
Angry Daughter
One says No and the othersays nothing at all—
Chicago, I will live in your museumswhere Europe is a picture on the wall.
Obedient Child
I concealed my island,my little star.
In my black boat I hid.I hid in pictures on the wall.
I said, I am here in America,your hero,…