by Alaina Hammond
36th July 2024 in Bangladesh
[Video clip 1] thrice the bullets
shoot the chest that invites them
inside bluntly thrice those valiant
hands stretched against those
lethal rounds
[Video clip 2] a calm,
coldcorpse hurriedly
hurled from the roof
of a prison van creepy
cops flee in fear as the
engine cracks.
[Video clip 3]
splintered skull floats
on the pool of blood
spilled like molten
lava from a volcano.
[Video Clip 4]
Ei pani pani. pani lagbe, pani lagbe? Ei
pani, pani. he rubs his eyes as water
scrubs his body off the blood.
slowly spills his residual sanguine life force
like a leaky fountain ceases abruptly
[Video Clip 5] the maniac cop shot 6
times from a close range of the rooftop
like a schoolboy hurling a stone into
the pond. a chilling silence follows as
the cherry wall echoes the flying lung.
Jahidul Alam, born where rivers braid through Bangladesh’s green, writes from Louisiana’s muddy breath and tidal grief. A diasporic voice shaped by monsoon memory and protest, his poetry speaks from the fault lines of exile, nature, and empire. With a PhD in English and Creative Writing, he maps the wounds of land and power, where nature speaks, and silence learns to resist.
Alaina Hammond is a poet, playwright, fiction writer, and visual artist. Her poems, plays, short stories, philosophical essays, creative nonfiction, paintings, drawings and photographs have been published both online and in print. Publications include Spinozablue, Paddler Press, Fowl Feathered Review, Synchronized Chaos, Well Read Magazine, Concision Poetry Journal, New World Writing Quarterly, Lowlife Lit Press, Flash Phantoms, New Limestone Review, L’Esprit Literary Review, and Rock Salt Journal. @alainaheidelberger on Instagram.