Greetings from the War

I will greet you with flowers

no matter how many

bullets you bring.

                        I will greet you with bullets

                        because the flowers you greet me with

                        are from my garden.

I will greet you with song

though you curse me

and raise arms against me.

                        I will greet you with curses

                        because the wounded child at your feet

                        is my only son.

I will greet you with embraces

though the knife you carry

cuts away at my arms.

                        I will greet you with knives

                        that are made from the shrapnel

                        I pulled from my leg.

Gallo

He is not a pacifist in his love-

making like the hummingbird who probes

gently into the fuschia’s corolla.

feeding on nectar but leaving pollen

on the pistil, so the flower will

continue to bloom.  The cock fucks, wearing

away at a hen’s feathers. Injurious

mating that he ki-ki-ri-kis to the sun

each morning before beginning his conquests.