Moncada Barracks

Condemn me. It does not matter. History will absolve me.
—Fidel Castro

The soft peach walls are reminiscent of a hospital.
They complement the aged bloodstains on the floor.

There’s a waiting room here—
The benches resemble pews,

Empty, save for the ghosts of both heroes
And conspirators, their dying hymns.

There is no prayer loud enough to grant
A gentle execution to the condemned.

It’s been decades, but the red blots still blemish the tiles.
A death remains a death.

Tiara Dinevska-McGuire is a first-generation Macedonian-American poet. Her work has previously appeared in The Common. She lives in Cleveland, Ohio where she works as a middle school educator.

Appears In

Issue 11

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