Chapters (73)
- Cover
- Note to the Reader
- Illumination of the Martyrdom of St. Bartholomew
- I. abu ghraib arias
- The Blues of Lane McCotter
- (echo /ex/): “In the name of God…”
- Searching the Koran (Standard Operating Procedure)
- (echo /ex/): “In the beginning…”
- The Blues of Javal Davis
- (echo /ex/): “next day…”
- Public Address/Ghost Soldiers
- (echo /ex/): “his name is G…”
- The Blues of Charles Graner
- (echo /ex/): “On the third day…”
- Handling the Koran (Standard Operating Procedure)
- (echo /ex/): “First the man…”
- Document Exploitation (Standard Operating Procedure)
- (echo /ex/): “Now these are the generations…”
- The Blues of Lynddie England
- (echo /ex/): “me…”
- The Blues of Ken Davis
- (echo /ex/): “Now I am what I saw…”
- MUSLIM BURIAL (Standard Operating Procedure)
- (echo /ex/): “And it came to pass…”
- The Blues of Joe Darby
- (echo /ex/)
- II. first recitative
- Woman Mourning Son
- Recipe from the Abbasid
- Home Sweet Home
- The Iraqi Curator’s PowerPoint
- Black Site (Exhibit Q)
- Asymmetries
- Salaam Epigrams
- War Stories
- III. hung lyres
- “The new theory: not to praise too much…”
- “When the bombs fell, she could barely raise…”
- “you mute you without openings…”
- “Is the ear…”
- “in the cell of else…”
- “this is the air we script to lips…”
- “I had no names to blazon their tender…”
- “She asks, is that man crying…”
- “What does it mean, I say.”
- IV. second recitative
- Breathing Together
- Testimony (after Daniel Heyman)
- When I Was a Child, I Lived as a Child, I Said to My Dad
- Black Site (Exhibit I)
- Love Potion #42
- Saddam’s Fingerprints
- Etruscan Cista Handle
- Black Site (Exhibit M)
- A Toast (for Nawal Nasrallah)
- Cell/(ph)one (A simultaneity in four voices)
- V. homefront/removes
- “I hear it, at times, even in the wind.”
- “was taken was rapidly…”
- “What consequence is a body.”
- “tried hanging myself…”
- “I was planning my lesson on imagery…”
- “taken to outside court…”
- “In the wake of.”
- “I suspended upside…”
- “You look at me / looking at you.”
- “so I could pass the time… ”
- “As if, somehow, I were responsible.”
- <hover to see video>
- “On the flight overseas…”
- “I did not know my…”
- Compline
- Notes
Thanks to the National Endowment for the Arts, the Community Partnership for Arts and Culture (Creative Workforce Fellowship), Cuyahoga Arts & Culture, the Ohio Arts Council, and John Carroll University for grants in support of the writing of this work. The Creative Workforce Fellowship is a program of the Community Partnership for Arts and Culture. The Fellowship program is supported by the residents of Cuyahoga County through a public grant from Cuyahoga Arts & Culture.
Thanks to Rebecca Black, Hayan Charara, Sarah Gridley, Anna Meek, and Mary Weems for their extensive remarks on the manuscript. Thanks as well to Kazim Ali, Danny Caine, Michael Croley, Ian Demsky, Michael Dumanis, Fady Joudah, Marilyn Hacker, Chris Kempf, Dave Lucas, E.J. McAdams, Mark Nowak, Radius of Arab American Writers, Inc. (RAWI), and Maria Smith and the Cleveland Nonviolence Network for your encouragement. For opening spaces.
Thanks as well to Justin Petropoulos for creating renditions of Bashmilah’s hand drawings of black sites.
Thanks to everyone at Alice James Books—especially Carey Salerno, Stephen Motika, Alyssa Neptune, Mary Austin Speaker, Julia Bouwsma, and Meg Willing—for making this happen.
And most importantly, thank you to Amy Breau, to whom this work is dedicated, for her constant companionship, her careful reading, her nurturing of our children Adele and Leila, and her invitation to a greater opening.
…it took the war to teach it, that you were responsible for everything you saw as you were for everything you did. The problem was that you didn’t always know what you were seeing until later, maybe years later, that a lot never made it in at all, it just stayed there in your eyes.
—MICHAEL HERR, Dispatches
If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be?
—1 Corinthians 12:17
Illumination of the Martyrdom of St. Bartholomew
Illumination of the Martyrdom of St. Bartholomew
from the dried hide of calves
carved & sewn in quires
they bend & tend to him / as if
tailors or healers & not rending
skin from limb / their eyes
narrowing knives / he balances
naked on ankle / a single
arm aloft as if in flight
from body’s scything / O wholly
gold-haloed & yet-membered head
soothe the eye in which I am
thrown / hand without shield /
scissored out hymn / & if
the body’s flayed & displayed
in human palms / & human skin
scrolled open / the body still dances
& if the flesh is the text
of God / bid a voice to rise /
& rise again
I. abu ghraib arias
The Blues of Lane McCotter
(echo /ex/): “In the name of God…”
Searching the Koran (Standard Operating Procedure)
(echo /ex/): “In the beginning…”
The Blues of Javal Davis
(echo /ex/): “next day…”
Public Address/Ghost Soldiers
(echo /ex/): “his name is G…”
The Blues of Charles Graner
The Blues of Charles Graner
the Christian in me
knows it’s wrong
but the corrections
officer in me can’t
help but love
making a grown man
piss himself
(echo /ex/): “On the third day…”
Handling the Koran (Standard Operating Procedure)