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This poem is taken from PN Review 221, Volume 41 Number 3, January - February 2015.

Pantoum in Wartime Marilyn Hacker
In memory of Adrienne Rich

Were the mountain women sold as slaves
in the city my friend has not written from for two weeks?
One of the Just has given back his medal.
I wake up four times in the night soaked with sweat.

In the city my friend has not written from, for two weeks
there was almost enough electricity.
I wake up four times in the night soaked with sweat
and change my shirt and go to sleep again.

There was almost enough electricity
to heat water, make tea, bathe, write e-mails
and change her shirt and go to sleep again.
Her mother has gallstones. Her sister mourns.

Heat water, make tea, bathe, write e-mails
to Mosul, New York, London, Beirut.
Her sister mourns a teenaged son who died

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