For Troy
–
I gave Troy
a plum at breakfast.
It bled—
thick, obscene—
down his chin
like sacrament,
like a wound
God forgot.
He smiled.
His mouth,
a cracked vault
no one dared
open.
I gave him
my clothes—
the cops had delivered him
naked,
skin raw
as peeled bark.
His wrists still
wore the bite
of iron.
I gave him
my CD player.
He shattered
without sound—
a fruit
split by pressure,
flesh
trembling
on the verge
of rot.
He crawled
into my marrow bed
and cried—
not boy,
not beast,
but something
halfway
to light.
I promised
I would never
leave.
But the doctor
with dead eyes
said neurology,
said bipolar,
said instability,
said—
gone.
I left him
with nothing
but fruit-blood
on his fingertips,
and sixteen years
of survival,
dodging boys
with guns
and godless names—
the gangs in Cape Town
have mouths
like furnaces:
they burn
what they’re given.
Renier Palland is an American/South African poet, sociologist, trauma survivor and Bipolar Disorder fighter. Holding dual citizenship, he has worked in war zones, including his current work in Gaza, where he bears witness to the unrelenting human cost of conflict. His poetry has been published in leading journals, and his novel War Game was named “Book of the Year.” His upcoming poetry collection, We Still Exist, channels the raw power of survival, demanding that readers face the violence and suffering the world prefers to ignore. The poet never forgets