Poetry

St-st-stutter Winds


s-s-sometimes

 i hear terrified winds of 

stuttering children

 s-s-suffering around the world 

…ch-ch-choppy bits of unborn 

heartbeats  

which should have pattered 

like tinkly tambourines…

if only 

they had had the 

chance 

to play… 

stac-ca-toes 

of 

young 

voice-

es

pre-tend-

ing

with 

mach-ine 

guns 

and

i-i-i’m  too y-y-young  to d-d-die

su-i-cide 

lisps

Wh-wh-when is recess 

o-o-over?

my f-f-foot

                   steps

st-st-stutter

fuh 

       fuh

             fuh-

alter

t-t- t

                  …rip

over

dirty mounds 

of too-soon-to-be-toddler’s 

arms

s-s-surrounded by circles of

snake fangs 

curled into 

false lips, 

hissing

cruel words… 

creating

cruel worlds 

where

death-threats hang 

from online billboards,

and countries’ eyes glow 

red with 

blood-wine 

hate,

where 

ch-ch-children 

are slashed into p-p-puzzle-pieces 

fitting neatly into governmental 

boxes

where toddlers’ arms

are planted like suicide-seeds

to feed hungry gods.

aborted lives in wombs…

kindergarten tombs…

where children learn how to die

sometimes my footsteps st-st-stutter.

sometimes my heart

f-f-forgets

to 

beat.

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