Saint John, New Brunswick
This is a street at war.
The smallest children
battle with clubs
till the blood comes,
shout "fuck you!"
like a rallying cry--
while mothers shriek
from doorsteps and windows
as though the very names
of their young were curses:
"Brian! Marlene!
Damn you! God damn you!"
or waddle into the street
to beat their own with switches:
"I'll teach you, Brian!
I'll teach you, God damn you!"
On this street,
even the dogs
would rather fight
than eat.
I have lived here nine months
and in all that time
have never once heard
a gentle word spoken.
I like to tell myself
that is only because
gentle words are whispered
and harsh words shouted.
