erasure of childhood

what becomes of a boy
erased by his country— whose

past quivers through the present
unlacing his skin
how all bodies soften into memories
before the flies gather
before you call them corpse

the boy
sometimes remembers the others—
corpses with no owners
to claim them—
left scattered
like trash in monrovia

he counts them—
exhaust the numbers
his mouth can remember

dogs come to feast
on what he’s counted

tomorrow they will starve for more
as the country gives

the boy is laughed to death
by children returned
to god’s dusty hands

what happens to a boy who is erased
by his country?
dirt will be under his fingernails
from all the digging

About the Author

Jeremy Teddy Karn was born in Monrovia, Liberia. He received his MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, where he was awarded fellowships in support of his work. He is currently a PhD student and an MD Anderson Fellow at the University of Houston. He can be reached through his website: www.jeremyteddykarn.com