Children Made Men // Eva Smith

Children Made Men
Eva Smith

Eyes open endlessly.
Brothers now bodies.

Asked, “Where are we going?” “Where are they?” “Am I gonna be alright?”

Children made men by the cruelest lottery
Yearning for or in terror of it
All imagine sunrise
A bright, and hot and red rupture
To break unforgiving quiet.
Waiting, listening, smoking
Impatient
craving return.

Of the bright and hot and red rupture
To break unforgiving quiet
Waiting, listening, smoking
All imagine sunrise
Yearning for or in terror of it
Children made men by the cruelest lottery

Asked, “Where are we going?” “Where are they?” “Am I gonna be alright?”

Brothers now bodies
Eyes open endlessly.