Michael Schein

Words like stones tumbling in icy surf, polished by faith in our better selves.

Styrofoam


News item: Guantanamo Bay prisoners maintained sanity by scratching poems into Styrofoam cups with their fingernails.
– San Francisco Chronicle, July 17, 2005

With fingernails.
Thousands of lunula howls:
death home terror prayer –
who do they think they are?

They are the men carved in Styrofoam
each scratch such a threat
to national insecurity
that today the military
stands guard over cups.

No wonder
we shut them away,
those monsters
who will stop at nothing,
even poetry,
even naming their captors.