portion of the artwork for Sean Patrick Mulroy's poetry
the warsaw zoo in time of war
Sean Patrick Mulroy

(after an account by nelly cesana)

the night after the bombing is quiet.
ruin hangs on the neighborhood like smoke
in the basement of a building that has only
now caught fire.

across the street, the polish children
are bringing home milk, eggs, cheese—
unbelievable riches, storybook things
that we do not have.

I am sitting at the window
even though mother told me not to.
Outside, a giraffe stumbling down the street—
why not. its path is a confused question mark
scrawled in blood, looming crooked and silent
like a bad dream.

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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 36 | Spring 2012