Two Poems
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by Renata Golden
This is what revolution looks like trapped in a story and in my body I left behind the secular truth the lies my body spoke woven like blessings in cycles of fear under bleak skies a fever dream a night sweat the births I was given the map of a man no longer the child I was still a child of god what body is holy what body is whole holding a gun with its unborn sound in a more perfect drama from a let-go past no apology the costs demanded for choking the motherland for bearing the fatherland What was the question your body answered Did your skin dream of what it might become Which body were you in when you woke each morning What did you find when you searched for your story’s beginning Did the world around you make it better or worse Did you hide your face so they could see you Did the word man lie on your tongue Did you ever stop wanting to change When your would-be assassin came for you, was your gun in your hand Did you know who he was and did he belong to you Which fear was the firearm that triggered a hotter flame Was this violence a stranger or a familiar companion When he died from your wound, did he die like a man What names were you called before you were titled El Coronel Did you come for the mandates of war and not the smell of other men’s blood Which violence felt most comfortable as you were fighting your war Did war set you as free as your first confession What does the word war mean to your god When did it become a matter of power Who do you think won this war Renata Golden’s poems and essays have appeared in numerous journals and anthologies; her book Mountain Time: A Field Guide to Astonishment from CSU/UGA Press won the 2024 Southwest Book Award and was a finalist for several other awards. SHARE - Issue: 2.1 / October 2026 |