Outside inside a courtyard boxed between concrete walls turquoise sky and dust floor beaten grassless by small scarred feet they stand silent eyes boldblack with fear so many barefoot questions in shirts sent by earnest stateside churchladies

The fat sergeant revs his jeep rubs sweatsoaked bald head on olivedrab sleeve weve made em toys you know me and the guys. they break em in one day nothin you can do little bastards dont know how to play

He waves a fat clean hand puttputts away

The skinny nun in flowing dusthemmed white speaks French but only if she has to her bony hands dance a pantomime lead me past (one shirt: sarasota florida the pantless owner scratches lice) swings. a slide even. inside into a darkblind sunless bay

Here i offer listless skullfaced babies in bare woodslat cribs bottles of despair in lieu of love they suck with no will

I hold the babies

After outside inside the sunbaked courtyard i hold them all one by one until the jeep returns it is my penance that it is not enough for any of us