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   p o e m    f o r    a.

--- C .C .  R U S S E L L


Nicaragua, Mexico, El Salvador.
God's names you say --
the gods of lost men
or things you wish you could contain
 and therefore, contained gods.

In your bedroom, postcards of orange sunsets a different form of orange.

You stare at them at night, spread your fingers through lightning and walk into them saying to him Hillel, I am coming. Israel, put down your gun.

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