The Inconsiderate
On a dirt road threading
out of Port-au-Prince
A man discarded
alongside the ditch
By thugs, former Tonton
Macoute,
Laid flat with
machete hacks
Bits of bone and
brain fan out from the wound
Blood seeping into
the dry, dusty ground.
Our squad arrives
securing the scene,
Interviewing
witnesses and recording the crime
Two MPs stoop by the
corpse, and strike a pose
A souvenir picture
is snapped while nearby
Cordoned off with onlookers,
a woman cries.
Étienne, our assigned
interpreter, tells the GIs
The weeping woman
is mother to the deceased
But they do not
flinch—it is lost on them
How they are
treating her son’s remains
Like the trophy hunters
of some big game.
Years on, these
soldiers would be dead too,
But that day in
Haiti, it was going well for them.
David Cranmer
is the editor of the BEAT to a PULP webzine and whose own body of work has appeared in such diverse publications as
The Five-Two: Crime Poetry Weekly, Needle: A Magazine of Noir, LitReactor, Macmillan’s
Criminal Element, and Chicken Soup for the Soul. He's a dedicated Whovian who enjoys jazz and backgammon. He can be found physically in scenic upstate New York where he lives with his wife and daughter, and he can be
found virtually on Twitter @BEATtoaPULP.
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