Advice to the Photographers of Atrocities
by Judith McCombs
(published in The Anthology of Women Poets, 1973, edited by Pamela Victorine,
Dremen Press; originally published in The Carolina Quarterly)
There is a problem of number.
You must not show us
A fieldful of victims
They will look like clothing,
Or abandoned wreckage,
We will not react.
Too many bodies
Are cordwood, numerals
Irrelevant similes.
There is a problem of distance.
In the far, clean air
Overkill has its beauty,
Symmetry, skill—
The jungle blossoming
With globular fire—
Stay with us humans,
Under the leaves.
There is a problem of hope.
Show us the children
Fording the river,
They have a sister
To carry the baby,
They may escape
If the bombers are late;
Or the suspect, still sitting,
Able to watch
The torturer’s incisions;
Or better, the obedient children,
Standing together,
Eyes on the floor,
Watching what is done to their mother,
It is called interrogation,
Not many survive.
Give us the appearance of hope
If you would teach us to see
What is done in our name.
