IDENTITY

What did you say—they found another one?

—I can’t hear you—this morning

another one floating

in the river?

talk louder—so you didn’t even dare

no one can identify him?

the police said not even his mother

not even the mother who bore him

not even she could

they said that?

the other women already tried—I can’t understand

what you’re saying,

they turned him over and looked at his face, his hands

they looked at,

right,

they’re all waiting together,

silent, in mourning,

on the riverbank,

they took him out of the water

he’s naked

as the day he was born,

there’s a police captain

and they won’t leave until I get there?

He doesn’t belong to anybody,

you say he doesn’t belong to anybody?

tell them I’m getting dressed,

I’m leaving now

if the captain’s the same one as

last time

he knows

what will happen.

that body will have my name

my son’s my husband’s

my father’s

name

I’ll sign the papers tell them

tell them I’m on my way,

wait for me

and don’t let that captain touch him

don’t let that captain take one step closer

to him.

Tell them not to worry:

I can bury my own dead.