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by Rachelle Howe

ours is a mine field.
not the one-two punch variety
not the MK47 dream

not the artillery shell tango;
not the glock 9, assault round
not the semi-automatic argument

not the bullet proof vest place to land
not the violent rebuttal ricochet
ours is a mine field

not a green peace variant
not a salve and stitch contingency
not the North Korean DMZ

I never pulled the shrapnel from blown out flesh
and tattered limbs;
the berlin wall never fell to free our dysphoria.

for ours is a mine field
and I'm still jumping atop
your live rounds.

01/23/2012

Posted on 01/23/2012
Copyright © 2021 Rachelle Howe

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 01/23/12 at 11:40 PM

This certainly has all the makings of a literary drive-by. Well done.

Posted by Shannon McEwen on 01/24/12 at 06:22 AM

incredibly vivid, and unique - i really dig this.

Posted by JD Clay on 01/30/12 at 03:45 PM

WOW! This is volatile poetry, Rachael. I love the explosive nature which eludes to what you've portrayed as a tense relationship. Like walking on bombshells. Good stuff!

Posted by Nadia Gilbert Kent on 03/01/12 at 08:03 AM

I really like this, but find myself wanting to know more about the mine field itself, and how you're faring.

Posted by Quinlan L Gibson on 12/27/13 at 06:33 PM

Ah I'm reading "mine" in it's wonderful homonym duality. This is an explosive piece gorgeous, but i'm feeling a deep commitment down inside.

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