by Donal Mahoney
Under the mud he can hear the men
digging and cursing but they
can't hear him scream.
The mud won't let him scream.
He was out for a walk when the mud
came down the hill like lava
covering him and the woman,
an arranged marriage of strangers
sinking and screaming.
He wonders how long he'll be there.
He can't recall the prayer
his grandmother taught him.
He wonders if the woman can hear
the men digging and cursing
and if she's able to scream.
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