Bloody Country, Bloody Country, Bloody Country
I whisper my country’s name in the mirror three times
and hope it might come back from the dead.
This hasn’t worked yet. Tomorrow
I’ll stare again at my own pale face, my
dark almond eyes that some people mistake
for an invitation to ask about my family’s origins,
my blood. On Wednesdays I walk for miles back
and forth along the coastline and wish
I could let my feet root beneath the waves. I can’t
plant myself in this shifting place. Meanwhile,
my country tries to save its own life
by bloodletting, a leech
latched to itself.
and hope it might come back from the dead.
This hasn’t worked yet. Tomorrow
I’ll stare again at my own pale face, my
dark almond eyes that some people mistake
for an invitation to ask about my family’s origins,
my blood. On Wednesdays I walk for miles back
and forth along the coastline and wish
I could let my feet root beneath the waves. I can’t
plant myself in this shifting place. Meanwhile,
my country tries to save its own life
by bloodletting, a leech
latched to itself.
Jan / Feb 2024
Katie Manning is the founding editor of Whale Road Review and a professor of writing at Point Loma Nazarene University. Winner of the Main Street Rag Poetry Book Award, she's the author of eight poetry collections, most recently Hereverent (Agape Editions, 2023) and How to Play (Louisiana Literature Press, 2022).
Art: Donna Morello, Collage