Glasnost

by Mike Jewett


Plumes of smoke, not
unlike chimneys
in winter,
in Kiev

mixing with grey skies;
Bob Ross getting just the right
amount of whites, blacks,
blues.

Rebel: “We have just shot down a plane.”

In painting, you have unlimited power.
You have the ability to move mountains.
You can bend rivers.

Boeing 777-200
passenger plane-

298 people,

33,000 feet,

hit by a missile
fired from a Buk launcher.

Downed near
Shakhtersk Donetsk oblast.

Headphones, computers
scattered through a
sunflower field.

Elsewhere, a Dutch
passport
lay open.

Agony City“.

Burning wreckage.
Bodies on the ground.

Lots of corpses
of women and
children.

The rebels take over,
securing
the scene.

Mobile phones,
wallets,
cameras-
none

to be found.

“Bodies fell
from the sky,
looking like
clumps of ash.”

Crows of Moscow fly
over Ukraineʼs steppes
in V formation, like geese;
strike two Ukrainian Sukhoi-25 jets,
then land near a road
diamond. Drink from
a stream, caw
“glasnost”,
“гла́сность”.
Scatter into the
few nearby treetops.

Trees cover up
a multitude

of sins.

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