Danniel Schoonebeek
When you dig us back up
and the last fires dying on the western rim
I want one of you
to say in your language
god damn
what a fine set of teeth she had
I want one of you
to snap from my neck
the harmonica I wore from a thread
(if it helps think of me
a deserter
say I’ve come to remove his dog tags)
Now I want you to hold it above you
against the wind
(I want there to still be wind)
and the one who’s not dancing
when the song
issues forth
I want him to sing
in your language brother remember
god damn this was their song
not ours
I’m singing
this was their wind that fights its way through the teeth