David Hickman

Guernica /Pablo Picasso

Everything is broken, Herr Von Richtofen.

That is your “great success.”

Our hands express to air their dire implications

without enmity, sorrow, or regret,

but wildly, as if they had been drawn in black and gray

upward into the air, that is the source of their suffering,

Where the faces of our enemies remain invisible,

while forcing the issue of our dependency

on this little market packed with commodities

and our minor, civilized aspirations and beliefs.

Where woman, man and animal

scream into negative space

and each figure is propped

against each fading line’s indifference

Turning nothing into ragged figures

that grip a broken sword, or fly apart haplessly,

under the still-burning bulb that lights the ceiling,

and these beautiful deaths you can know nothing of.