← v14n2, Fall 2015Poetry · Volume 14, Number 2
Allegiance
I knew my father’s voice could take me down
an inch, his look another, my nation deep
into the basement where we prepared to live.
My father asked forgiveness now and then.
But my nation, what was that, and who.
Drop, my teacher said, when we were praised
for being small. If only I were smaller.
Zero minus zero. It made as much sense
as killing the dead, but we learned the answer
that day in October. We learned one nation
under God made God still smaller too.
Who then was it over the Russian children.
Us. Or God minus God, the zero in
his name opening our mouths to speak,
to release a little balloon of air
that dwindled into nothing as it flew.
