Bring Us a Souvenir
from the Next War

by Mark Bibbins

This is the kind of poem I long to understand but after twenty readings, I do not. Is it the words winding in such a way to indicate the "feeling" of anesthesia?

I don't get it either. But the language is beautiful.

I agree. There is a message here the author is trying to convey, but now I feel like he is almost withholding too much. I keep trying to tie the possible meaning of the poem with the title--which, by the way, I find intriguing.


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