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  Table of contents Issue Twenty OVER THE BODY OF HIS LAST DAUGHTER


How bloody the fall of the people
Who prayed for the stay of the blade
How useless was our little steeple
That for god and for nothing was made

How fragile the walls and the ramparts
How hollow the orders of kings
How worthy the ones we called heroes
Who ran at the sound of black wings

I must ask that you pardon the cowards
I must beg you remember my name
When they ask who it was who betrayed you
Say “My Father” again and again

How wrong I was to give promise
To tell you my strength made you safe
How foolish those words and how honest
The words I must carve on your grave

I will see that you soon face your killers
I will bury their sins at your feet
I will hang their souls from hell’s pillars
In the next world, my daughter, we meet.




Miguel Eichelberger writes out of Vancouver, Canada with his authoress wife. He is a traveler, highwayman, and untrained flautist. His poetry has appeared in literary magazines such as Vancouver Review, Existere, San Diego State University’s pacificREVIEW, Indiana University’s From The Well House, Joypuke and many others. His first play, Cave, was shortlisted for the 2015 Vancouver Fringe New Play Prize and was selected for the 2015 rEvolver festival in Vancouver.

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