Winston

i

For some reason they eradicated thoughts of her
when they washed his brain:
she had done nothing wrong
by bringing him into the world,
but to take her away
was to leave him without ballast
without home
without hope of return
or resurrection.

The anarchist regrets
the loss of his mother in a way that no one else could.

ii

The page where her picture used to be
was blank.
He liked it better that way:
it was simpler.
There were no ugly complications of incongruity,
no gaps between faces and names --
only gaps
that vaguely felt like they should
be resented.

He doesn't miss her:
he misses something,
but doesn't know that it is her.

iii

The mother
is not so lucky
and recognizes her son
as he passes
in his new suit,
flush with the army's success.

She closes her eyes
and puts a bullet in his head.



                Aberdeen, 1992