god’s children
- May 18, 2022
- 1 min read
by Jeremy T. Karn
april 2003,
of the many nights, this one i dreamed of my mother — her name steaming hot in the song of a bird.
outside, the rain throws itself into the arms of the glass window like a lover.
ask Liberian where to find God, then we will show
you the mass graves of God’s children in them.
it has been two days of nonstop fighting & raining in Monrovia. the sounds of bullets could be heard in a distance like a tumtum laying in my chest. someone said death was a stone thrown away from our hideout.
i dug in my nails with my teeth & formed a small river in each of my fingers. my body stretched into nothingness that ate me to the bone while waiting for my mother. waiting for any news of her safety.
but Monrovia was falling with my mother under it.
Jeremy T. Karn’s chapbook, Miryam Magdalit, was selected by Kwame Dawes and Chris Abani for the New Generation African Poet (African Poetry Book Fund), 2021. His works appeared & forthcoming in the 20.35: Contemporary African Poets Anthology, Hoxie Gorge Review, Ghost Heart Literary Journal, Whale Road, IceFloe Press, Lolwe, FERAL Poetry, Kissing Dynamite, Up the Staircase Quarterly, Olongo Africa, Liminal Transit Review, Auto Focus Lit, Stone Poetry journal, Afro Literary Magazine, Eremite Poetry, and elsewhere. He is the 2020 winner of the ARTmosterrific editor choice award. He tweets @jeremy_karn96
