Poem by Michael Minassian

​REMEMBER THE STARVING ARMENIANS

In my mother’s kitchen 
food was weaponized
plates piled high with pilaf
tomatoes, chicken, and lamb.

Remember the starving Armenians,
my mother said.

History sat down at the table with us;
our lost family kept alive 
half a century later 
In Northern New Jersey,
Long Island, and the Bronx.

During the First Genocide
of the Twentieth Century,
America sent ships full 
of food, nurses, and nuns 
to the Mediterranean;
posters hung in town squares
and full-page ads appeared
in the New York Times:

Remember the starving Armenians

A million and a half dead,
another million scattered 
around the world.

But I had to finish my dinner
no matter how full I felt
and if any scraps 
remained on our plates
my mother stood 
at the kitchen sink
and licked each one clean –

our kitchen at least 
one place on earth
we ate for the empty places
we ate for the dead.

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MICHAEL MINASSIAN is a Contributing Editor for Verse-Virtual, an online magazine. His chapbooks include  The Arboriculturist (2010) and Around the Bend (2017). His poetry collection, Time is Not a River, (2020) is available on Amazon. A second poetry collection entitled Morning Calm and a chapbook Jack Pays a Visit are also forthcoming in 2020. For more information: https://michaelminassian.com

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