On  Friday 25th May, Irish citizens will vote in a referendum on abortion rights.

Dirty Word

by Susan Millar DuMars

The first three fourths are fine.
The listening ear of c
the deep bowl of u
curved bridge n; but then
the tiny crucifix at tail end tips us
away from rounded lips
to a sound we make with closed teeth
and spit. Like that,
my tenderest part, an epithet.

And we can’t talk about
what goes in or out of it
and I have to petition
just to gain control of it
and you wonder why
I’m of two minds about it?

My sweetest place. The cruelest taunt.
I try to write its name down. Can’t.

 See also here.

Mud      

by Susan Millar DuMars

 You did right to stay put.

We admire you.  You,

with your gun and your country.

Your children squat in the mud

they were made from.

We want to help you.

Those who ran, are still running,

they’re not noble.  Not solid.

They flit and flutter

from border to border

not knowing when they’re not wanted.

Imagination’s expensive.

They can’t afford it.

We’re sorry to mention,

but the mud their kids

are squatting in?

That’s our mud.

But you – we admire you

with your slingshot and your country.

Hold on please, we’re coming.

A promise is a promise.

Your war is important to us.

Please, hold the line.