No War
by Mariam Fayez

Read the automated transcript.

They aim,
and it only takes a few seconds to make a man
a dead one

someone

in this mass of faces will never grow fingernails
never step aside to avoid a puddle on the ground
or a pile of shit

They aim,
and somewhere I am drawing mountains
on her sleeping back,
the helicopters standing in for the eyes of God
I wonder if he is watching us living

Does he see me placing soldiers in the nape of her neck
When the war comes,

we are the smallest bullets

Used by permission of the poet.