Poetry

Reuters photo

By

Lianne Kamp

Blasphemy, They Said

it was hearsay –

she said, he said, they said

all while harvesting berries

as the peasant farm worker

quenched her thirst from a ladle

intended only for a Muslim mouth

blasphemy, they hissed

and the sound injected its venom,

swallowed the village whole

best not think at all

lest the thoughts take shape

and fill your mouth with words

best not breathe at all

lest the words escape in the air

naked and vulnerable

but before she could catch her breath

the snake coiled a noose around her neck

and she swung in circles over her own death

in an eight by ten prison cell for nine years

it was hearsay –

she said, he said, they said

all while harvesting berries

Lianne Kamp

Lianne Kamp resides in Boston, Massachusetts. Her poems and short stories appear in assorted print journals and online publications including: Poets Reading the News, Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, Scarlet Leaf Review, Poetry Quarterly, Dual Coast Magazine, and a number of Prolific Press anthologies. She writes poetry to make her world-view more panoramic by examining it more closely.