Miss Besieged Sarajevo The Forgotten Man
Murphy, Peter E
Poetry Peter E. Murphy Miss Besieged Sarajevo May, 1993 Imela Nogic, 17, blonde and shrapnel scarred, embraces her runners up and smiles a flare bright smile. Although she has won, she is afraid...
...She carries no flowers as she limps down the runway...
...Although she has won, she is afraid her boyfriend will think her dirty for prancing in the swimsuit...
...He sees himself shop after shop with his palms open to tokens and change, open to a currency that will carry him through elements that are benign, where the trains that rumble beneath the surface wheeze silently all through the screaming night...
...There is no prize...
...Behind her, judges sit with Uzis between their legs...
...I may not even be alive tomorrow...
...The Forgotten Man The man who forgot himself rises out of his cardboard sleep into the concrete morning to relieve himself of hunger...
...Imela Nogic, 17, would love to compete for Miss World, if only her boyfriend and her father would not object, if only she could leave her city of snipers and shells...
...They have no talent to decide in Sarajevo, no evening gown...
...She unveils a banner, "Don't Let Them Kill Us...
...The audience breaks into silence...
...Imela Nogic, 17, says, "Plans...
...I have no plans...
...Eventually, when he recalls his faceless face upon well-fed mannequins does his life lose sense...
...He walks among the citizens of this canyon and sees himself reflected in plate glass, blurred by blue buses, yellow livery, gray commuters that dash across his own dim image in the shiny panes...
...Everything has acquired use-trees have become lampposts, deer have turned into taxicabs that whistle down Park Avenue on cloven tires of rain...
Vol. 124 • October 1997 • No. 18
