George Hitchcock, "War" (1952)

The piano-movers come in the morning
the piano-movers come in the afternoon
the piano-movers come to the house of Pak Yip
their bellies filled with roses.

	In his gloss dome, over his comic book
	sits my insouciant brother.

The sky fills with teacups
and doorknobs
the tibia of children
with ashes
with needles
& floral rembrances

	What do you think, my brother?
	Awaking at four sweating, the sudden erection?
	The fat man at the hamburger stand?
	The death of Mickey Mouse?

The sky fills with spoonhandles
eggshells
testes
Fire engines scream in the forest.

	In the house of Pak Yip my sister lies,
	flaming rosebuds in her loins.


from George Hitchcock, The Wound Alphabet: Poems Collected & New, 1953-1983 (Santa Cruz, CA: Jazz Press, 1984), p. 4.