November 13, 2017 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Nikola Tasic photo



JD DeHart




I Supposed



that the world was kinder,

that these pages of violence

were only in history books.


I know, I know, a plush

and guarded vision.  I thought

hate was somehow washed

away in the Civil Rights

movement.  A boy, a child

I was.


Of course, now I’m not so

sure, now I see otherwise,

and the question has lingered

in my mind for the past year:


How will I show love in my

life, and when I say I am

a Christian what does that

mean?  Am I lumped together

with others and, if so, should

I choose another word?








I dreamed he was in

the belly of a creature

that could only be a tank.


Surrounded by metal

and several feet down,

a camouflage Jonah –


rocked and moved

by stirrings not his own,

subject to the perambulation


of the larger ideology

that engulfed him, surrounded

by mountains of smoke.







JD DeHart

JD DeHart is a writer and teacher. His chapbook,The Truth About Snails, is available from RedDashboard.

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