Dark hands and Blood legends are
paternal engines stolen from
the memory of women beaten by
mouthfuls of silent lead secreted
from blurred civil wars names burning
from snakes tongue borne into
nameless wine cork
beneath the bloodmyths

The women behind the machines and
morphine webs stroked
numb in theatres

Whose skulls are like stone bowls
Whose hands are like straw
The names of their murdering children
are as old as the names of rivers