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Smuggler's Boat
Migrants on the move from violence
their only possession
breath-space on a smuggler’s boat
secured with back-bent harvests
in pretzel-bent systems
weight of crates of strawberries
hoisted on hell-bent backs
just trying to reach Spanish-shores’-east
from Moroccan beach with a camel-mystique
—the seaway west of Africa
a rags-wearing-flotsam grave
migrants on the move from Cameroon
die —or survive
a militia-cocktail blend of balaclava terror
jihadists and bandits with morality mills low on grist
infest desert sands like scorpions
bullets sharp as cactus spines
and male instruments of rape
piercing bones and soft tissues and psyches
instruments rejecting life instruments injecting horror
migrants on the move find more violence
migrants pray for food-filled days
wasteland-vultures and water-rats prey
on prayerful fearful like they’re bleating beasts
men women and children
herded onto a fishing vessel— a sickly casket
too small way too small
for all the men women and children
oh how hollow-eyed babies cling to milk-less mothers
bellies stinging with hunger
eyes wringing til dry
human smugglers grinning
pockets overflowing with high tides of gold
breath-space on a smuggler’s boat their only hope
though distant shores stingy with dingy castaways–
lantern’s light tries to melt their fright
stringy muscles straining like ropes
brined-eyes blaming the night for ambush
shark-teeth-waves gnashing the hull
maelstrom pulses swashing whitewashing vein walls
just trying to cross just holding on just trying to live
but the ravaging waves— waves with a savaging swing
swing the frail boat with no sail
swing a grim-reaper-boat with a dead motor
swing a boat to fling its human cargo
into thrashing switchblade waves
knifing the belly-light out of the lantern
cutting rag-wearers from the boat in unholy baptize
gutting skies of far-sighted stars
desperate gasps for air
fill spaces between slap and splash
of brown hands on water
a child here a baby there
slipping from slippery maternal grasps
uglifying their faces
displaced from their breath-spaces
by death roll of the merchant-serpent they ride
cold lips blush blue as cyanosis-seas fill sinking lungs
suspended bodies writhe in fluid ballet
til surrendering in tender mercy splendor
like fetuses curling in midnight amnion
—non-umbilical unbiblical
migrants’ drowned-mouths-open screaming silent
swells wear a tin-foil facade in morning tide
sea-sins forgiven with christen of lavender light
on lullaby currents they ripple toward that distant island
corpses tossed and turned till ropey-muscles relaxed
~d ~r ~i ~f ~t ~i ~n ~g ~
like unrolled unmoored ribbons of kelp
to Spanish-shores’-east on a seraph sea
bodies populate sandflats rising up from a falling tide
migrants on the move even in death
reaching their final destination
Copyright ©
Susan Ashley
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