Zufall | a transgenerational poem

you can’t name your own ghost

she lost what lived inside of her

he stumbled home from the war

that would never leave

would become the hands and feet

of his body, his face, his defeat


you kept the country

that wanted you dead

in the back of your head


it comes out of your name

the way you pronounce it

the way your body commands a room

the way you frighten me to death


money, the laurels keeping you alive

sundried, tongue-tied

she’d never call you by your name

and you try to be the man you’ve never been

and she pays a high price

to eviscerate you from her features

and you howl to conjure up the past

to get your hands on something

that has escaped a long time ago

My own drawing © Laura Gentile 2022 | Instagram: croque_melpomene

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