Hide and Seek at the Bataclan, featured by The Society of Classical Poets (New York). Paris, 13 November 2015
The hiders: cheaters with suicide-belted access
to ethereal hiding places — traceless
but for grieving faces searching sidewalks.
The seekers: police, army, press corps, beloved
— my son in front of the TV. I try to shove
the new rules into our silent conversation.
The Bataclan echoes, Come out! Come out
wherever you are! but nobody can breakout
from their infinite hiding spots.
Us and them. We’re all entangled in
an eternal endgame. Nobody wins.
Together, we’re all it.