Thomas Locicero’s most recent poem to appear here was “Out” (November 2018).

The Uncivil Wars of Africa
By Thomas Locicero

“You are just a vapor that appears for a little
while and then vanishes away.”—James [4:14]

If vapors could be made contrite,
Ground fingerprint dust-fine, then
Swept in a void in pitch of night
Or in disintegrating light,
Never looked upon again
As if meant to evaporate,

And if these vapors were, despite
Their invisibility,
To verbalize their wretched plight,
Would not the armless arm to fight
In anguished futility
Because they know that it is right?

The vapors know enough of hate
To fill book and continent.
Their tribal blood will dilate
And tremor at the thought of fate,
And pulse, and moan their lament
To what extinction might await.

Oh, what a sad, peculiar sight
If vapors were humanity!
Their forms to humans but a blight,
So oddly poised in mid-retreat,
Winded, caved-in sails at sea,
Positioned for a grave defeat.

And if these vapors were this night—
Would you disagree with me?—
Deemed civil, worthy, and complete,
Would not the dead enlist to fight?
Wouldn’t you and wouldn’t I
If they were but elite and white?