← v14n2, Fall 2015
Poetry · 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.