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Devils DEVILS In room in circle men sit cross-legged eyes shut muttering muttering to drive the devils out of their heads. Through window horizon needle-sharp with guns: shark’s jaw, seen from the belly. Thudding drums. Clouds heaved by winds: roil of whites and black. And far away woman wailing: the air bleeds slit by her cries Brian Campbell is the author of Guatemala and Other Poems (Window Press, Toronto, 1994). His poetry has recently appeared in The Antigonish Review, The New Quarterly, Nth Position and Dusie. He lives and teaches in Montreal. www.briancampbell.org |